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i:*y^' 

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(pxofmox  nriffiam  (gXiffer  gf)a;irton,  ©.©.,  fe£.®. 

^eeenfe^  615  (gtte.  $axfon 

fo  f ^e  fetfirari?  of 

(princeton  t^eofo^icdf  ^emindrj 


SERMONS 


O    N 


IMPORTANT  SUBJECTS, 

BY    THE    LATE    REVEREND    AND    PlotfS 

v" 
SAMUEL      D   A  V  I  E  S,     A.  M, 

Sometime  Prefident  of  the  College  in  New- Jerfey. 


THE    FIFT 


TO  WHICH   ARE   NOW  ADDED, 

JHREE  OCCASIONAL  SERMONS, 

NOT  INCLUDED  IN  THE  FORMER  EDITIONS; 

MEMOIRS  AND  CHARACTER  OF  THE  AUTHOR  ^ 

AND 

TWO  SERMONS  ON  OCCASION  OF  HIS  DEATH, 
By  the  Rev.  Drs.  Gibbons  and  Finley. 


VOL.      1. 


N  E  W-r  O  R  K: 

Printed  for  T.  ALLEN,  Bookseller  and  Stationer, 

N°.  12,  Queen-Street. 

—1792.-. 


%      » 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


X  HE  following  Ssrmons,  by  Prefident  Davies, 
have  already  been  honoured  with  a  high  degree  of 
public  approbation.  The  fale  of  four  impreffions  in 
the  courfe  of  a  few  years,  fuper added  to  the  prefent 
demand  and  known  value  of  the  Work,  fuggefted  to 
the  Publifher  that  a  fifth  Editiofi  might  be  printed 
with  a  probability  of  fuccefs.  The  contents  of  the 
former  editions,  in  five,  are  here  printed  complete  in 
three  volumes,  with  the  addition  of  three  Occqfional 
Sermons  \  which  will  doubtlefs  be  very  acceptable  to 
the  admirers  of  this  valuable  Author.  Thus,  it  may 
be  truly*faid,  the  price  is  reduced,  and  the  value  of 
the  Work  confiderably  enhanced. 

A  few  Biographical  Anecdotes  of  the  Author  are 
prefixed  to  the  prefent  volumes,  from  which  we  may 
colleft  that  his  principles  and  praftices  were,  equally' 
exemplary. 


CONTENTS 


CONTENTS 


O   F 


O     L     U     M     E 


Page. 


&" 


Funeral  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Mr.  Davics,     7 — 29 

Appendix,         —         —         —         —        51 — 36 

A  Sermon,  preached  at  Haberdalher's-Hall, 

occjlioned  by  Mr.  Davies's  Death,  37 — 64 

Charader  of  the  Author,         —         —         6j — 70 

SERMON     I. 

The  Divine  Authority  and  Sufficiency  of  the  ChrilHan 

Religion. 
o 

Luke  XT! .  :  - — 51 .     Thfm  hi  feiJ,  I  fray  the  therrfsre,  father,  that 

thtx  iL-cuIJf^    hca  rim  to  nty   r'athirs  ktuji:  fir  I  tofvg  ^qx  hrg- 

tcrt^:  teat  ce  mar  tc/rr't  'jku  ibex,  Ufi  tiej  titjo  tnu  hUt  this 

p'.^cir  cf  tcrmint.     Acrairam   udJ  ixt'i  tim,  they  ttpi-e  A£g£r  tatJ 

I'cf  pr^cets  ;  Ut  thifft  hear  t'cim.     Aid  he  fmd,  Saf.  /lit her  Ahrm- 

tarn  :  h»t  if  cne  tvntt  xnij  them  frtm  tht  deaJ^  thney  %///  repent. 

Aad'befazJ  vita  him.  If  they  hear  m«t  M^fej  tadthefrtrfhets,  «w- 

ther  ^-ill  they  he  ferf:t^d ihmgb  (ou  mfg  fntm  the  JettJ.      71  — 105 

SERMON    U. 

The  Nature  ot  Salvation  through  Jefus  Chrift  ex- 
plained and  recommended. 

Jchn  i;i.  16.  Far  Gcd  fa  ia^-ed  tbe  ii-^td,  that  he  gave  his  fahf 
-egjiten  Sat,  that  <ii-6v^e%'er  ^eHe^-tih  iit  htm  Jh^ald  x9t  ferijht 
hat  ha^-e  t^-erlafing  i.'^i.  ICJ — 131 

SERMON     III. 
Sinners  intreated  to  be  reconciled  |o  God. 

Cot.  r.  20.  AVir  thtny  <icf  mrt  amkafj'adtrs  frr  Chri^f  eu  thngb 
Gtx  did  iefigch  yem  hy  su  :  vie  tray  ycx,  in  Cbrift*s  Beau.,  Be  yt 
.'t  I  ?  tciigd  tt  Qid.  1 5  [  _  I  ^  J 


CONTENTS. 

SERMON    IV. 

The  Nature  and  Univerfality  of  Spiritual  Death, 

Ephef.  ii.  I  and  5.  Who  nvere  dead  in  trefpajfes  and  Jins. — E'veft 
ivheii  nve  'v:ere  dead  in  Jins.  Page  154' — ^7^ 

SERMON    V. 

The  Nature  and  Procefs  of  Spiritual  Life. 

Ephef.  ii.  4,  5.  But  God,  ivho  is  j-ich  in  mercy,  for  his  great  love 
•ivherenuith  he  Icvcd  us,  even  luheii  nve  ivere  dead  in  Jins,  hath 
quickened  us  together  nvith  Ckriji .  1 7  8—  I  g  Q 

SERMON    VI. 

jPoor  and  Contrite  Spirits  the  Objedls  of  the  Divine 
Favour. 

Ifaiah  Ixvi.  2.  To  thismawwillllook  ;  even  to  him  that  is  poor,  and 
of  a  contrite  fpirit,  and  trembleth  at  my  voord.  199. — 216 

SERMON    VII. 

The  Nature  and  Danger  of  making  light  of  Chrift 
and  Salvation, 

Matt.  xxii.  5.     But  they  made  light  of  it.  ^17 — 23:5 

SERMON    VIII. 

The  CompafTion  of  Chrift  to  weak  Believers. 

Matt.  xii.  20.  A  bruifed  reed  Jhall  he  not  break,  and  fmokitig  flax 
fjall  he  not  quench.  233 — 251 

SERMON     IX. 

The  Connexion  between  Prefeht  Holinefs  and  Future 
Felicity. 

Heb.  xii.  14.  FoUo-zv— Holinefs,  woithout  luhichno  manf^alljee  the 
Lord.  251 — 266 

SERMON     X. 

The   Mediatorial   Kingdom   and   Glories   of   Jefus 
Chrift. 

John  xviii.  37.  Pilate  therefore  faid unto  him.  Art  thou  a  kingthen? 
fejus  anjv:ered,  thou  Jay  ejl  that  I  am  a  king.  To  this  end  ivas  I 
born,  and  for  this  caife  came  I  into  the  luorld,  that  I  Jhould  bear 
t'jitnej}  unto  the  truth.  267—297 


CONTENTS. 

SERMON     XI. 

'Things  unfeen  to  be  preferred  to  Things  feen. 

i  Cor.  iv»  18.  While  tve  look  nst  at  the  things  fwhich  are  feen  y  hut 
at  the  things  <which  are  not  feen :  for  the  things  ivhich  are  fern 
are  temporal',  but  the  things  njohich  are  not  feen  are  eternal. 

Page  297—312 

SERMON    XII. 

The  facred  Import  of  the  Chriftian  Name. 

Atfls  xi.  26.     The  difciples  ivere  called  Chrifians  frjl  at  Antioch. 

312—3-9 

SERMON     XIII. 

The  Divine  Mercy  to  Mourning  Penitents. 

Jer.  xxxi.  18,  19,  20.  I  ha^oe  furely  heard  Ephraim  bemoaning  him- 
felf  thus,  T^hou  hajl  chafiifed  me,  and  I  ivas  chafiifed  as  a  bul- 
lock unaccufiomed  to  the  yoke:  turn  thou  me,  and  1  pall  he  turned; 
for  thou  art  the  Lord  my  God.  Surely  after  that  I  -zvas  turned,  I 
repented ;  and  after  that  I  ix^as  inftruBed  I  fmote  upon  my  thigh :  I 
nvas  afhamed,  yea,  e'ven  confounded,  hecaufe  I  did  bear  the  reproach 
of  my  youth.  Is  Ephraim  my  dear  fan  P  is  he  a  pie aj ant  child? 
for  fince  I  fpake  againfl  him,  I  do  earnefily  remember  him  fiill : 
therefore  my  botjoeh  are  troubled  for  him  ;  /  ixill  furely  have  mercy 
Upon  him,  faith  the  Lord.  329 — 352 

SERMON     XIV. 

Chrift  precious  to  all  true  Believers. 

1  Peter  ii.  7.     Unto  you  therefore  mJAch  believe y  he  is  precious. 

352—374 

SERMON     XV. 

The  Danger  of  Lukewarmnefs  in  Religion. 

Rev.  iii.  15,  16.  I knovo  thy  ivorks,  that  thoa  art  neither  cold  nor 
hot:  I  ijoould thou  ivert  cold  or  hot.  So  then,  becaufe  thou  art  lake- 
ix'arm,  and  neither  cold  nor  hot,  I  vjillfpue  thee  out  of  my  mouth. 

375—392 

SERMON     XVI. 
The  Divine  Government  the  Joy  of  our  World. 

Pfalm  xcvii.  i .  The  Lordreigneth,  let  the  earth  rejoice :  let  the  mul- 
titude of  the  ifes  be  glad  thereof.  392 — 409 


CONTENTS, 

SERMON    XVII. 

The  Name  of  God  proclaimed  by  himfelf. 

Exodus  xxxiii.  18,  19.  And  he  faid,  I  befeech  thee  Jhew  me  thy 
glory.  And  he  faid,  I  nDill  make  all  my  goodnefs  pafs  before  theet 
and  I  luill proclaim  the  name  of  the  Lord  before  thee— 

With  chap,  xxxiv.  6,  7. 

And  the  Lord  faffed  by  before  him,  and  proclaimed.  The  Lord,  the 
Lord  God,  7nerciful  and  gracious,  long-fuffering,  and  abundant  in 
goodnefs  and  truth ;  keeping  mercy  for  thoufands ;  forgiving  iniquity, 
and  tranfgrefjion,  and  fn,  and  that  ivill  by  «o  means  clear  the 
guilty.  Pag?  410 — 43b 

SERMON     XVIII. 
God  is  Love. 

I  John  iv.  8,     God  is  Love.  431—456 

SERMON     XIX. 

The  General  Refurredion. 

John  V.  28,  29.  The  hour  is  coming  in  the  nvhich  all  that  are  in  the 
graves  fhall  hear  his  voice,  and  jhall  come  forth ;  they  that  have 
done  good,  unto  the  refurreSicn  of  life ;  and  they  that  have  done 
evil,  unto  the  refurn^ion  of  danmation,  456 — 478 


Preface- 


Preface  to  thefirjl  Edition, 


AN  epiftohry  correfpondence  commenced  between 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Samuel  Davies  and  myfelf,  in  the 
year  1752,  and  was  continued  till  the  time  of  his  de- 
ceafe. 

When  I  began  the  intercourfe  with  him,  I  could  not 
entertain  any  very  probable  hopes  that  we  fhould  ever 
have  an  interview  in  our  world,  but  Mr.  Davies^s  vifit 
to  Great-Britain,  in  the  year  1753,  with  that  venera- 
ble man  the  Rev.  Mr.  Gilbert  Tennent,  of  Philadelphia^ 
to  folicit  benefadions  for  the  college  of  New-Jerfeyy 
gave  me  a  pleafure  beyond  all  reafonable  expedation  ; 
and  the  friendfliip  which  was  kindled  at  the  difcance  of 
feveral  thoufand  miles  from  each  other,  was  increafed  by 
free  and  frequent  converfes  during  the  time,  almoft  a 
year,  of  Mr.  Davies^s  refidence  on  this  fide  the  Atlantic. 

After  his  departure  from  our  country  to  America,  I 
received  feveral  letters  from  Mr.  Davies,  and  had  the 
honour  of  being  numbered  among  his  particular  friends, 
to  whom  he  communicated  the  very  fecrets  of  his 
bofom. 

In  a  letter,  dated  September  12,  1757,  Mr.  Davies 
(at  that  juncture  fcarce  recovered  from  a  violent  and 
dangerous  fever)  thus  writes  to  me :  "  I  want  to  live 
"  after  I  am  dead,  not  in  name,  but  in  public  ufeful- 
*'  nefs :  I  was  therefore  about  to  order  in  my  will  that 
"  all.  my  notes,  which  are  tolerably  full,  might  be  fent 
"  to  you  to  corredl  and  publifh  fuch  of  them  as  you 
"  might  judge  conducive  to  the  public  good.  Pray, 
"  what  do  you  think  of  the  projedi:,  if  the  like  occafion 
"  fhould  return  while  you  are  among  mortals  ?" 

What  anfwer  I  gave  to  my  friend's  propofal  I  can- 
npt  exa<5lly  recolleft,  but  I  am  perfuaded  that  my  af- 

B  fed:  ion 


ii  PREFACE. 

ft6tion.  to  him  would  not  permit  me  to  put  a  ncgat!7^ 
upon  his  requeft. 

On  the  4th  of  February,  i7^ij  this  excellent  man 
v/as  by  a  violent  fever  removed  from  our  world  :  and, 
though  he  died  uniVerfally  lamented,  yet,  as  he  had  an 
uncommon  intcreft  in  my  affedion  while  living,  fo  his 
deceafe  opened  the  fprings  of  the  moft  affliding  forrow 
in  my  breaft,  and  perhaps  I  may  truly  apply,  with  a 
litde  variation,  the  words  of  the  Foei, 

Multis  ille  flebilis  occidit, 
Nulli  flebilior  qudm  mihi. — 

HoRAT.  Od.  Lib.  I.  Od.  24. 

But,  though  the  prophet  is  afcended,  his  mantle  is  left 
behind.  A  very  confiderable  number  of  his  Sermons 
has  been  tranfmitted  to  me,  and  thence  I  hav^  feleded 
what  were  fufficient  to  compofe  the  enfuing  volumes. 

As  the  Sermons  which  I  now  lay  before  the  public 
v/ere  Mr.  Davies's  ufual  popular  difcourfes,  it  may  na- 
turally be  fuppofed  that  they  required  patient  and  accu- 
rate revifal  in  order  to  their  publication  ;  and  that  the 
Editor,  if  he  v/ould  difcharge  his  duty  as  he  ought, 
muft  find  himfelf  under  the  neceffity  of  making  fome 
occafittnal  alterations  and  amendments  as  to  the  lan- 
guage, and  efpecially  of  adjuiling  the  pointing.  Thefe 
liberties  I  have  taken,  and  have  endeavoured  to  execute 
my  truil  in  the  fame  manner  which  I  have  reafon  to 
think  Mr.  Davies,  if  he  had  been  living,  would  have 
approved  and  commended  ;  and  in  which  I  fhould  wiih, 
my  own  Sermons,  fhould  I  leave  any  behind  me  wor- 
thy of  the  public  view,  might  be  correded  and  fent 
into  the  world. 

They  who  knev/  and  heard  Mr.  Davies  will  need  no 
further  proof  than  the  perufal  of  the  difcourfes  them- 
felves  that  they  are  the  real  productions  of  the  author 
to  whom  they  are  afcribed.  The  fun  ihews  himfelf 
to  be  the  fun  by  the  very  beams  with  which  he  irradi- 
ates and  enlivens  mankind,  and  is  eafily  diftinguifhed 
from  other  luminaries  by  his  furpalTing  luftre. 

The 


PREFACE.  iii 

The  Sermons  I  have  chofen  for  publication  ftri(5lly 
anfwer  the  Adiertifement  in  the  Proposals  for  printing 
them  •,  namely,  Sermons  on  the  moft  useful  and  impor- 
tant oubje£fs^  adapted  to  the  Family  and  Closet. 
The  reader  will  meet  with  no  difcourfes  in  thefe  vo- 
lumes but  what  are  calculated  for  general  ufe,  or  fuch 
as  relate  to  the  common  conditions,  duties,  and  in- 
terefts  of  mankind  in  one  form  or  another ;  and  in  how 
many  of  them  has  both  the  Saint  and  the  Sinner  ^. portion 
of  meat  provided  for  him  ?  May  it  prove  a  portion  in 
due  fcafon !  and  may  both  the  one  and  the  other  rife 
from  the  facred  feaft  divinely  flrengthened  and  blefled  ! 

Amidft  an  attention  to  the  very  numerous  and  im- 
portant duties  of  my  feveral  departments  in  life,  the 
additional  weight  of  a  due  preparation  of  Three  Vo- 
lumes of  pofthumous  difcourfes  for  the  eye  of  the  pub- 
lic, and  of  the  careful  reviews  of  the  proof-fheets  as 
they  came  from  the  prefs,  has  taken  up  no  fn^all  por- 
tion of  my  time,  and  been  no  inconfider^ible  acceffion 
to  my  conftant  labours  -,  but  I  have  moft  cheerfully  de- 
voted both  my  hours  and  my  toils  to  the  very  valuable 
purpofes-»— of  fulfilling  the  defires  of  my  dear  friend 
Mr.  Davies,  which  I  own  have  a  kind  of  irrefiftible 
power  over  mej — of  contributing,  as  I  would  hope,  to 
the  fpiritual  benefit  of  my  fellow-heirs  of  immortality, 
by  putting  into  their  hands  a  colledion  of  very  pious 
and  ufeful  Sermons  •, — and,  ofaffifting  and  comforting 
the  mournful  widow  and  orphans  of  a  friend  who  was 
as  dear  to  me  as  a  brother. 

I  take  the  liberty  of  returning  thanks,  in  the  name 
of  Mrs.  Davies^  (for  to  her  only  the  profits  of  the  pub- 
lication fhall  be  applied)  to  the  numerous  Subscribers 
to  the  work  ;  and  I  hope  they  will  find  themfelves  am- 
ply recompenced  for  their  benevolence  to  tlie  widow 
and  fatherlefs,  by  the  facred  advantage  and  plsafure 
they  and  their  families  will  receive  in  the  perufal  of 
thefe  difcourfes ;  in  which  piety  and  genius  fecm  to 
have  vied  v/ith  each  other  which  fhould  excel,  and 
triumpli  in  the  fuperior  glory. 

Notwith- 


iv  PREFACE. 

Notwithftanding  all  the  time  and  pains  the  prefent 
work  has  ccfl  me,  and  the  ftrong  knit  I  have  that  a 
hke  proportion  of  both  would  be  required  in  the  exe- 
cution ot  a  like  undertaking,  yet  I  beg  leave  to  afi'ure 
the  public,  that,  as  I  have  a  large  number  of  Mr. 
Davies^s  manufcript  Sermons  ftill  in  my  hands,  I  (hall 
be  ready  (health  being  continued  to  me)  to  revife  and 
publifh  the  Author's  remaining  difcourfes,  whenever 
there  fhall  be  aji  encouraging  profpeft  of  benefit  to 
Mrs.  Da'vies,  Or  ker  orphans,  by  a  freili  publication, 
yfj  to  vi/it,  or  relieve,  the  fatherlefs  and  the  widow  m 
their  affiiotion"^  is  an  eflential  branch  of  chriftian  duty, 
fo  it  is  a  duty  I  truft  will  never  be  wanting,  whenever 
an  opportunity  offers  for  exempHfying  it,  from  my  firft 
regards  and  praifcice. 

Mr.  Davies  annexed  to  fome  of  his  Sermons  Hyains 
of  his  own  compofition.  Had  this  been  uniformly  the 
cafe  they  might  have  accompanied  his  Difcourfes  to  the 
prefs,  but  as  it  is  not,  I  have  omitted  them;  but,  if 
death  or  incapacity  prevent  not  my  defign,  J  intend 
hereafter  to  collect  what  Hymns  of  his  have  fallen  into 
my  hands,  and  publi/h  them  together  with  fome  of  my 
own  on  the  like  occaiions. 

I  have  prefixed  to  thefe  Volumes  a  Sermon  upon 
the  death  of  our  Author  by  that  excellent  man  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Samud  Finley,  Mr.  Davies^s  fuccefTor  to  the  preii- 
dency  of  New-Jerjey  College :  I  have  alfo  re-publifiied 
the  Difcourfe  1  preached  to  my  people  the  next  Lord's 
day  after  I  received  the  dillreffing  news  of  Mr.  Davies's 
deceafe;  and  have  ventured  to  add  an  Elegiac  Poem 
to  the  memory  of  my  dear  friend-,  in  which  if  the  rea- 
der finds  not  a  vein  of  poefy  worthy  of  the  fubjeft,  yet 
he  will  not,  I  prefume,  be  difpleafed  at  the  efforts, 
hov/ever  languid  and  inadequate,  of  bereaved  mourn- 
ing friendfhip  fo  do  honour  to  the  charader  of  a  perfon 
fo  amiable  and  deferving. 

The  idea  I  have  given  of  our  Author  in  my  Ser- 
mon, and  particularly  in  my  Poem,  and  above  all,  the 

juft 
*  James,  i.  27. 


PREFACE.  V 

juft  and  lively,  the  ftrong  and  elegant  pi(5hire  which 
Dr.  Finky  has  exhibited  of  him  in  his  difcoiirfe  upon 
his  death,  render  it  unneceflary  to  enlarge  this  Preface 
with  an  account  of  Mr.  Davies^s  merit  and  accomplifh- 
ments  •,  I  fhall  therefore  only  add,  that  I  moft  fincere- 
Jy  wifh  that  young  minifters  more  efpecially  would  pe- 
rufe  thefe  Volumes  with  the  deepeft  attention  and  feri- 
oufnefs,  and  endeavour,  in  conjunflion  with  earned 
prayer  for  divine  illumination  and  affiftance,  to  form 
their  difcourfes  according  to  the  model  of  our  Author ; 
in  v/hich,  if  I  miftake  not,  a  critical  Scrutiny  into  the 
facred  Texts  which  he  choofes  for  his  fubjefts,  a  natu- 
ral Edudtion  and  clear  Reprefentation  of  their  genuine 
meaning,  an  elaborate  and  fatisfadtory  Proof  of  the 
various  heads  of  dodrine,  a  Heady  Profecution  of  his 
point,  together  with  an  eafy  and  plain,  but  yet  ftrong 
and  pertinent  Enlargement,  and  a  free,  animated,  and 
powerful  Application  and  Improvement,  wonderfully 
adapted  to  awaken  the  confciences,  and  ftrike  the 
hearts  of  both  faints  and  iinners,  mingle  the  various 
excellencies  of  learning,  judgment,  eloquence,  piety, 
and  feraphic  zeal,  in  one  uncommon  glory ;  not  unlike 
the  beams  of  the  fun  cclleded  by  a  burning  glafs,  that 
at  oncefhine  with  a  moft  dazzling  brightnefs,  and  fet 
fire,  v^herever  the  blaze  is  direfled,  to  objefts  fufcep- 
tive  of  their  celeftial  influence,  and  a  transformation 
into  their  own  nature. 


THOMAS  GIBBONS. 

fioxtcn-Scuare,  Noiu  14,   1765. 


THE 

Disinterested  and  devoted 
christian : 

A 

SERMON, 

PREACHED  AT 

NASSAU-HALL,    PRINCETON, 

MAY    28,    1761. 

OCCASIONED  BY  THE  DEATH  OF  THE 

Rev.   SAMUEL   DAVIES,   a.  m. 

LATE   PRESIDENT  OF  THE   COLLEGE  OF  NEW-JERSEY. 


By     SAMUEL     F  I  N  L  E  Y,     d.  d. 

PRESIDENT  OF   THE  SAID  COLLEGE. 
TO  WHICH   ARE   ADDED, 

Some    MEMOIRS     of    Mr.   D  A  V  I  E  S. 

BY  ANOTHER  HAND. 


Qui  confiderat  qualis  erit  in  Morte,  fcmperque  pavidus  erit  in 
operatione,  atque  inde  in  Oculis  fui  Conditoris  vivct,  nil  quod  tran- 
feat,  appetit :  cunftis  vitse  prefcntis  defideriis  contradicit,  et  pene 
mortuum  fe  confiderat,  quia  moriturum  fe  minime  ignorat.  Gregor. 
L.  12.  Moral. 


T    O 


IMrs.  MARTHA   DAVIES,    the  Mother, 


AND 


Mrs.    JEAN    DAVIES,   the  Widow, 


OF    THE    LATE 


Rev.  President  D  A  V  I  E  S,  deceafed. 

The  following  Sermon, 

Preached  on  Occafion  of  his  lamented  Death, 
I  s. 

With  the  tendereft  Refpe^, 

PRESENTED    BY 
Their  Jtncere  ar.d  affeclionaie  Friend^ 
and  humble  Seri'a-ni^ 

SAMUEL     F  I  N  L  E  Y. 


ROMANS,    xiv.  7,  8. 

For  none  of  us  Iheth  to  himfelf  and  no  man  dieth  to  hlm- 
felf.  For  whether  'u:e  liie^  we  live  unto  the  Lord  j 
or  whether  we  die,  we  die  unto  the  Lord  :  whether  we 
live  therefore^  or  die,  we  arc  the  Lord's; 

AS  the  very  dear  and  reverend  man,  whofe  prema- 
ture a!id  unexpected  death,  we,  amongft  thou- 
lands,  this  day  lament,  exprefied  his  defire,  that,  upon 
this  mournful  event,  a  Sermon  fhould  be  preached 
from  thefe  words,  he  plainly  intimated  his  expectation, 
that  the  audience  Ihould  be  entertained,  not  with  an 
ornamented  funeral  Oration,  but  with  fiich  an  inftruc- 
tive  difcourfe  as  the  text  itfelf  naturally  fuggefts.  The 
fubjeft  being  his  own  choice,  I  cannot  doubt  but  this 
friendly  audience  will  the  more  clofely  and  ferioufly 
attend,  as  conceiving  him,  though  dead^  yet  fpeaking  to 
them  the  folemn  truths  it  contains.  For  having  been 
admitted  into  the  full  knowledge  oi  his  religious  prin- 
ciples, I  may  prefume  on  fpeaking  m.any  of  the  fenti- 
ments  he  intended  from  this  text,  though  not  in  his 
more  fjblime  and  oratorial  manner. 

When  I  refleifl  on  the  truly  chriftian,  generous,  yet 
firici  Catholicism  that  diitinguifhes  this  whole  chapter, 
and  how  deeply  it  was  imprinted  on  Mr.  Davies's  own 
fpirit,  and  influenced  the  courfe  of  his  life,  I  am  ready 
to  conclude,  that  perhaps  no  text  could  be  more  aptly 
chofen  on  the  occafion.  It  exprefles  the  very  temper 
that  fhould  be  predominant  m  all,  and  which  adually 
is  fo  in  every  pious  breaft. 

That  we  may  apprehend  the  fcope  and  genuine  {en{c 
of  the  words,  it  is  necefl'ary  to  obferve,  that  warm 
debates  at  that  time  arofe  between  the  Jewijh  and  Gen- 
tile converts,  about  the  difference  of  meats  and  days 
efl:ablifhed  by  the  Mofaic  law ;  and,  io  fharp  was  the 
contention,  that  they  were  mutually  difpofed  to  exclude 
each  other  from  chriftian  communion.     The  Gentile, 


being 


X  A  Funeral  Sermon 

being  under  no  bias  from  the  powerful  prejudices  of 
education  and  cuftom,  was  fooner  and  eafier  convinced 
of  his  freedom  from  that  yoke  of  bondage^  and  defpifed 
tiie  Jew  as  weak  to  admiration,  and  fcrupulous  to  a 
fault.  The  Jew^  on  the  other  hand,  perfuaded  that 
thefe  ancient  divine  inftitutions  were  ftill  obHgatory, 
cenfured  and  condemned  the  Gentile  as  inconfcientious, 
and  profanely  regardlefs  of  God's  awful  authority. 

The  Apoftle,  in  order  to  quell  the  growing  ftrife, 
maturely  determines  that,  though  the  Gentile  held  the 
right  fide  of  the  queftion,  yet  both  parties  were  wrong 
as  to  their  temper  of  mind,  and  the  manner  in  which 
they  managed  the  controverfy ;  and  that  they  laid  an 
undue  ftrefs  on  the  matters  of  difference,  and  carried 
their  cenfures  higher  than  the  merits  of  the  caufe  would 
at  all  juftify.  He  therefore  recommends  moderation 
to  both,  and  fets  before  them  fufficient  reafons  why 
they  fliould  judge  of  each  other  more  charitably,  fince 
they  agreed  in  all  thofe  principal  points  that  would  juft- 
ly  denominate  them  "  the  fervants  of  the  Lord."  For 
if  they  would  reckon  it  a  bold  intrufion  to  call  before 
their  tribunal,  condemn,  and  punilh  another  man^sfer^ 
vanl-,  over  whom  they  had  no  legal  authority;  how 
much  more  arrogant  and  prefumptuous  muft  it  be  fo 
to  treat  a  fervant  of  the  Lord  ?  ver.  4. 

Again,  let  them  be  fo  candid  as  to  perfuade  them- 
felves,  that,  unlefs  the  contrary  be  evident,  they  who 
differ  from  them,  miftaken  or  not,  are  influenced  by  a 
confcientious  regard  to  the  divine  glory,  ver.  6.  This 
admitted,  their  perfonal  cenfures  will  neceffarily  be  mil- 
der, even  though  their  judgment  of  the  points  in  de- 
bate continue  unaltered  •,  and  this  muft  be  admitted,  if 
they  can  charitably  judge,  that  their  refpedive  oppo- 
nents are  real  chriftians  :  for  in  all  fuch  the  governing 
principle  is,  "  not  to  live  to  themfelves,  but  to  the 
"  Lord.  For  none  of  us  liveth  to  himfelf,  and  no 
"  man  dieth  to  himfelf  For  whether  we  live,  we  live 
"  unto  the  Lokd;  or  whether  we  die,  we  die  unto 
"  the  Lord  :  whether  we  live  therefore,  or  die,  we 

"  are 


on  the  Death  of  Mr.'DAYii.s.  xt 

**  are  the  Lord's."  Now,  if  no  pious  perfon  lives 
merely  to  pleafe  himfelf,  we  ought  not  to  judge  that  his 
averfion  from,  cm-  attachment  to  certain  meats  and  days, 
arifes  only  from  a  felfifli  humour :  but,  on  the  contrary, 
fince  his  whole  life  is  governed  by  an  honeft  regard  to 
the  will  of  God,  it  is  altogether  credible  that,  in  his 
different  condudl  refpecfling  meats  and  days,  he  a6ls 
from  the  fame  principle ;  for  whatever  is  true  of  the 
general,  is  alfo  true  of  all  the  particulars  contained  un- 
der it.  Suppofe  a  man  to  be  a  real  Chriftian,  you  then 
fuppofe  him  to  be  of  an  upright  heart,  of  a  tender 
confcience,  and  one  who  dares  not  to  negleft,  nor  live 
in  contradiction  to  known  duty.  He  makes  it  his  main 
bufinefs  to  pleafe  God,  and  fhall  we  be  implacably  dif- 
gufted  becaufe  he  does  not  rather  endeavour  to  pleafe 
us  ^    God  forbid. 

Thus,  while  our  text  affords  a  convincing  argument 
for  moderation  in  judging  of  other  Chriftians,  who 
differ  from  us  in  circumftantials,  it  teaches  us  what 
ihould  be  tho.  principle  and  end  of  our  life,  and  that  both 
Tiegatively  and  pojitively.  We  may  not  live  nor  die  to 
ourfelves,  but  to  the  Lord. 

L  "  We  may  not  live  to  ourfelves." 

This  propofition  fuppofes,  what  Is  a  demonftrable 
truth,  that  we  gre  not  the  abfolute  proprietors,  and 
therefore  have  not  the  rightful  difpofal  of  our  lives. 
For  fince  we  could  exert  no  kind  of  efficiency  in  bring- 
ing ourfelves  from  nothing  into  exiftence,  we  could  not 
polTibly  defign  ourfelves  for  any  end  or  purpofe  of  our 
own.  Hence  it  is  evident,  that,  whofe  property  foever 
we  are,  we  belong  not  to  ourfelves;  confequently,  it 
is  the  higheft  indecency  to  behave  as  though  we  were 
accountable  to  none  other.  As  rationally  may  we  claim 
felf-exiftence  and  independence.  It  will,  therefore,  be 
an  eternal  folecifm  in  adlion  to  aim  chiefly  at  our  own 
glory,  feek  only  our  own  things^  or  purfue  moft  eagerly 
our  own  pleafures.  Right  reafon  itfelf  peremptorily 
denies  that  the  dictates  of  our  own  minds  are  our  fu- 
preme  rule  of  condud,  or  that  our  own  will  is  our  law ; 

rnuQii 


xii  A  Funeral  Sermon 

much  lefs  may  we  fubjeft  ourfelves  to  the  government 
of  blind  paffions,  or  Indulge  to  irregular  appetites. 

We  are  not  at  liberty,  nor  have  we  any  authority  tc^ 
employ  either  the  members  of  our  bodies,  or  powers 
of  our  fouls,  at  pleafure,  as  if  we  had  originally  de~ 
ilgned  their  ufe.  Hence  it  will  appear  criminal,  on 
the  one  hand,  to  wafte  our  time,  or  expend  our  ftrength 
inufelefs  exercifes-,  and,  on  the  other,  to  allow  an  idle 
negligence  of  necefiary  bufinefs.  Our  tongues  them- 
felves,  thofe  unruly  members^  muft  be  patient  of  re- 
ftraint  ^  for  it  is  the  language  only  of  haughty  rebels  to 
fay,  "  Our  lips  are  our  own,  who  is  Lord  over  us  V\a) 
Our  very  thoughts  are  to  be  confined  within  prefcribed 
limits,  and  all  our  rational  powers  Jlatedly  exercifed, 
not  in  merely  curious  and  amufmg  refearches,  but  ir| 
matters  the  moft  ufeful  and  important. 

It  alfo   follows,  that  the  produ6t  of  our  adlivity^ 

whatever  is  acquired  by  the  exertion  of  thefe  powers, 

ought  not  to  terminate  in  ourfelves.     Are  we  in  pur-, 

fuit  of  learning,  that  ornament  of  human  minds,  it 

fnould  not  be  with  a  view  only  to  fhine  more  confpicu'r 

ous,  but  that  we  may  ferve  our  generation  to  better 

advantage.     Has  God  blefied  "  the  hand  of  the  diii- 

"  gent"  with  abundant  riches  ?     We  are  not  to  confl- 

der  them  as  the  means  of  gratifying  vanity,  or  "  ful- 

*^  filling  the  defires  of  the  fiefli,  and  of  the  mind  ;"  for 

we  muft  "  honour  the  Lord  with  our  fubftance."C/^j 

Has  Gge)  clothed  any  of  us  with  power  ?     This  is  not 

a  difcharge  from  his  fervice,  nor  a  freedom  from  fub- 

iedion  to  his  laws,  but  a  ftronger  obligation  tp  duty,  as 

it  gives  us  an  opportunity  of  more  extenfive  ufefulnefs. 

Finally,  fince  v/e  were  not  the  authors  of  our  lives, 

wc  can  have  no  right  to  take  them  av/ay.     We  have  no 

power  to  determine,  either  the  time  or  kind  of  death, 

any  more  than  we  can  v/ard  off,  or  fafpend  its  blow 

when  commlffioned  to  defcroy.     Therefore,  amidft  all 

tao.  miferies  that  can  make  life  itfelf  an  infupportable 

burden,  and  all  the  glorious  profpefls  that  can  make 

Ui 
(a)  Pfalm  :zii.  4.  ll)  Prpv.  iii.  9. 


en  the  Death  of  Mr.  Davies.  xiii 

as  impatiently  pant  for  dilTolution,  it  mufl  be  our  de- 
terminate purpofe,  that  "  all  the  days  of  our  appointed 
"  time,  we  will  wai»-  till  our  change  come.'YO 

As  thefe  particulars,  examined  by  the  ftridleft  rea- 
fon,  will  all  appear  to  be  Immediate  confequences  from, 
felf-evldent  principles,  and  muft  all  be  confefled  by 
him,  who  acknowledges  that  "  he  Is  not  his  ov/n  lord 
^'  and  mafter  i"  it  will  follow  as  an  evident  truth,  that 
5*  the  evangelical  duty  of  felf-denial  is  founded  on  the 
^'  everlafting  reafon  of  things." 

Reflefting  farther  on  the  preceding  obfervations, 
they  force  upon  us  the  difagreeable  convidion,  that  our 
whole  race  has  revolted  from  God,  and  rifen  up  in  re- 
bellion againft  him.  ^'  The  world  evidently  lies  in 
"  wickednefs  •,"  for  the  allowed  praftice  of  men  fup- 
pofes  principleSj  which,  they  themfelves  being  judges, 
mull:  confefs  to  be  palpably  falfe  and  abfurd.  They  aft 
^s  If  they  believed  they  were  made  for  themfelves,  and 
had  no  other  bufinefs  in  life  but  the  gratification  of  their 
refpedive  humours.  One  exerts  all  his  powers,  and 
fpends  all  his  time  in  nothing  elfe  but  endeavouring  to 
amafs  heaps  of  worldly  treafure :  another,  by  riotous 
living,  difperfes  v/hat  had  been  colleded  with  anxious 
care  and  affiduous  labour.  Some  live  in  m.aiice  and 
envy,  whofe  favourite  emplov  is  calumny  and  wrathful 
contentions,  as  if  they  had  been  created  for  no  other 
end  but  to  be  the  pells  of  fociety :  others  blafphem.e 
the  name  of  God,  defpife  his  authority,  mock  at  reli- 
gion, and  ridicule  ferious  perfons  and  things.  One  has 
no  other  purpofe  in  Hie  but  fport  and  merriment :  ano- 
ther eats  to  gluttony,  and  drinks  to  befottednefs.  Yet 
all  thefe,  and  namelefs  ranks  of  other  daring  offenders, 
would  be  alham^ed  in  a  christian  country  to  profefs  it  as 
their  ferious  belief,  that  they  were  made  by  a  moft  wife, 
holy,  and  righteous  God,  preferved,  blefled,  and  load- 
ed with  benefits  everyday,  on  purpofe  that  they  "  might 
"  work  all  thefe  abominations,"  or,  in  order  to  livejuft 
as  they  do. 

If, 
(c)  Job,  xlv.  14. 


xiv  A  Funeral  Sermon 

If,  then,  it  is  confefledly  impious  and  unreafonablc  to 
live  to  ourfelveSi  it  neceflarily  follows  that  we  are  the 
property  of  another,  for  it  will  ever  be  "  lawful  for  one 
*■'  to  do  what  he  will  with  his  own."  And  whofe  can 
we  be  but  his  who  gave  us  exiftence?  Or,  if  ties  of 
gratitude  can  more  powerfully  influence  ingenuous 
minds  than  even  thofe  of  nature,  who  can  fojuftly  claim 
us  as  He,  "  who,  as  we  hope,  loved  us,  and  v/aflied  us 
*^'  from  our  fins  in  his  own  blood  ^"(d)  This  leads  me 
to  obferve, 

II.  That  we  fhould  "  live  and  die  to  the  Lord.'* 
This  can  admit  of  no  debate ;  for  if  our  Maker  and 
Redeemer  be  our  rightful  owner,  then  whatever  we 
are,  or  have,  or  can  do,  muft  be  for  him.  Being  his 
fervants,  we  muft  "  fhew  all  good  fidelity"  in  his  bu« 
finefs.  The  talents  with  which  he  has  entrufted  us, 
more  or  fewer,  or  of  whatever  kind,  may  not  be  return- 
ed without  improvement  -,  for,  as  is  fit  and  proper,  he 
"  requires  his  own  with  ufiiry."('^j  He  is  our  King, 
whofe  prerogative  it  is  to  diredl  our  courfe  of  a6lion, 
and  propofe  the  end  at  which  we  are  to  aim ;  to  "  mete 
"  out  the  bounds  of  our  habitation,"  and  carve  our  por- 
tion; and  it  becomes  us  to  give  the  moft  ready  and 
cheerful  obedience  to  his  commands,  and  fubmit  to  al| 
his  difpofals. 

Our  living  thus  to  the  Lord  plainly  fuppofes  our  be- 
ing fenfible  of  our  entire  dependence  on  him,  and  that 
we  devote  ourfelves  to  his  fervice.  We  muft  "  prefent 
"  our  bodies  a  living  facrifice,"('/)  without  referve  or 
hefitation  -,  and  "  avouch  the  Lord  to  be  our  God,  to 
'*  walk  in  his  ways,  and  to  keep  his  ftatutes,  and  judg- 
"  ments,  and  commandments,  and  to  hearken  to  his 
"  voice. "C^j  We  bind  ourfelves  to  him  in  a  firm  co- 
venant, not  for  a  limited  term  of  months  and  years, 
but  for  ever  and  ever,  and  acquiefce  in  Him  as  our  chief 
good. 

The 

(iTj  Rev.  i.  6.  («)  Matt.  xxv.  27. 

(/)  Rom.  xji.  J.  ig)  Deuc.  xxvi.  17. 


on  the  Death  of  Mr.  Da  vies.  it^ 

The  folemnity  of  fuch  an  infinitely  important  tranf- 
adion  between  the  glorious  majefty  of  heaven,  and  fuch 
mean  creatures  as  we,  who  are  "  but  dull  and  afhes,'* 
cannot  but  ftrike  us  with  reverential  awe.  And  what 
will  make  it  yet  more  humbling  is  the  confideration  of 
our  guilt.  We  not  only  as  Creatures  take  upon  us  to 
fpeak  unto  the  Lord  our  Maker,  but  as  Criminals  ap- 
proach to  the  feat  of  our  offended  and  moft  righteous 
Judge.  Dare  we  then  trifle,  and  not  rather  be  moft 
ferious  and  deliberate  ?  Refledling  that  we  are  in  the 
prefence  of  the  heart-fearching  God  will  naturally  make 
us  watchful  over  every  thought  and  motion  of  our 
fpirits,  and  engage  us  to  the  greateft  fincerity  in  furren- 
dering  to  him  our  all.  We  will  give  him  our  hearts 
themfeJves  ;  keep  nothing  back ;  nor  except  againft  any 
terms  hefhall  pleafe  to  propofe,  but  yield  at  difcietion. 

On  this  occalion  a  confcioufnefs  of  our  having  revolt- 
ed from  him,  neglefted  his  fervice,  purloined  his  goods, 
and,  in  every  refpeft,  behaved  moft  ungratefully  and 
iindutifully,  will  affect  us  with  the  moft  genuine  forrow. 
Therefore,  when  repentant  we  return  to  him,  we  fhall, 
covered  with  fhame,  approach  with  the  Prodigal'^  felf- 
abafing  confeflion,  "  Father !  I  have  finned  againft 
"  heaven,  and  in  thy  fight,  and  am  no  more  worthy  to 
"  be  called  thy  fon."(/')  He  will  "  furely  hear  us  be- 
"  moaning  ourfelves,  like  E^hraim^"  that  v/e  have  too 
long  wrought  the  will  of  the  flefh,  and  fufFered  "  other 
*'  ufurping  lords  to  have  dominion  over  us  ;"  but  now 
we  humbly  beg  forgivenefs,  his  gracious  acceptance  of 
our  perfons,  and  admifTion  into  his  family,  fhould  it  be 
only  on  trial,  "  as  hired  fervants.'* 

But  though  our  fms  have  made  us  vile,  and  the  view 
of  their  odious  nature  makes  us  "  loathe  ourfelves  in 
"  our  own  fight,"  yet  a  conviction  of  the  free  grace 
and  mercy  of  God  in  Christ  will  comfort  and  encou- 
rage our  dejefted  and  diffident  hearts.  The  cords  of 
love  will  draw  us  nearer  and  nearer,  until  we  fhall  af- 
fiime  an  humble  "  boldnefs,  to  enter  into  tlie  holieft  of 

"all 
{h)  Luke,  XY.   i8. 


5dVi  ji  Funeral  Sermon 

"  all  by  the  blood  of  Jesus. "(/)  Sacred  love,  afid  a 
grateful  fenfe  of  the  unmei-ited  favours  of  our  God  will 
nov/  difpofe  us  to,  and  animate  us  in  the  performance 
of  every  duty.  Religion  will  be  our  chofen  courfe,  and 
the  commandments  of  God  will  be  fo  far  from  being 
burdenfome  to  us,  that  we  (hall  rejoice  in  them,  and 
delight  in  "  doing  the  things  that  plcafe  him."  Our 
whole  time  will  be  confecrated  to  his  fervice :  no  part 
of  it  can  be  fpared  for  flefhly  indulgencies,  or  finful 
pleafures,  but  will  be  employed  either  in  fome  pofitive 
duty,  or  in  preparation  for  it  in  the  proper  feafon. 

This  religious  bent  of  mind  will  manifeft  itfelf  in  all 
our  conduft,  and  give  even  common  aftions  a  different 
diredion.  If  we  attend  our  ordinary  callings,  we  fhali 
be  active  and  diligent,  not  in  order  to  gratify  an  earthly 
temper,  but  from  an  obediental  regard  to  fupreme  au- 
thority. When  our  fpirits  flag  through  intenfe  appli- 
cation tobufinefs,  and  recreation  becomes  neceffary,  our 
very  diverfions  will  be  confidered  as  our  duty,  and  fo  as 
a  branch  of  our  religion  :  and  as  they  will  always  be  in- 
nocent in  their  nature,  fo  they  will  be  no  otherwife  re- 
garded than  as  means  to  fit  us  for  the  repetition  of  our 
work.  If  our  friends  or  country  demand  our  fervice, 
we  fhall  not  give  place  to  felfifhnefs  and  indolence,  but, 
as  lovers  of  God  and  men,  generoufly  exert  ourfelves 
for  the  com.mon  good.  Thus  will  our  whole  life  be  re- 
ligion, upon  fuch  a  finccre,  entire,  and  affeftlonate  de- 
dication of  ourfelves  to  the  Lord.  And  fuch  as  is  our 
courfe  fo  will  be  its  end.  When  the  date  of  time  is 
concluded  we  fhall  alfo  "  die  to  the  Lord."  This  in 
general  imports,  our  living  under  the  rational,  affeft- 
ing  impreffion  of  our  diP/olution,  and  appearing  before 
God,  and  our  conflant  endeavours  after  adual  prepara- 
tion to  enjoy  him  for  ever.  Then,  upon  the  approach 
of  death,  we  fhall  confidendy  "  commit  our  fpirits  into 
"  his  hands,"  recommend  his  ways  to  furvivors,  and 
glorify  him  with  our  dving  breath. 

But, 

(?)  Hcb.  X.  ig. 


on  ibe  Death  of  Mr.  D^viiis.  xvii 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  if  our  lives  are  not  thus 
confecrated  to  our  God,  we  cannot  be  fuppofed  to  per- 
form any  duty  in  an  acceptable  manner,  as  the  requifite 
principle  and  end  are  wanting.  He,  to  whom  the  fe- 
cret  fprings  of  adlion  are  all  obvious,  will  not,  cannot 
accept  pretended  fervices  •,  nor  be  pleafed  with  the 
"  blind  and  the  lame  for  facrifice,"  when  the  beft  are 
efteemed  too  good  for  him.  To  compliment  him  with 
our  lips,  when  we  refufe  to  give  him  our  hearts,  will 
be  judged  fimilar  to  the  condud  of  thofe,  who  "  bowed 
"  the  knee  in  derifion,"  and  in  derifion  faid,  "  Hail ! 
"  King  of  the  Jews  !"  He,  "  with  whom  we  have 
"  to  do,"  cannot  be  deceived,  nor  will  be  mocked. 
He  requires  "  Truth  in  the  inward  parts,"  which  can- 
not fubfift  without  an  honeft  and  upright  dejtgn  to  ferve 
him  all  the  days  of  our  lives. 

Now  to  live  wholly  to  the  Lord,  will  appear  to  be 
our  reajonabk  fervice^  if  we  conlider,  i.  That  "  fuch 
"  a  life  is  moft  worthy  of  rational  and  immortal  crea- 
"  tures."  From  the  powers  and  faculties  given  us  it 
may  naturally  be  concluded  that  we  are  created  for  fome 
very  important  purpofe-,  but  what  can  be  fo  important, 
or  bear  fo  juft  a  correfpondence  to  our  capacities,  as  to 
live  to  the  glory  of  our  great  Creator  .''  This  being 
our  ultimate  end,  to  which  we  refer  all  our  adions, 
and  perform  each  of  them  in  fuch  a  manner  as  may 
bell:  anfwer  it,  will  influence  our  hearts,  and  frame  our 
whole  converfation  agreeable  to  the  divine  approving 
will.  And  what  can  fo  ennoble  the  foul  as  conformity 
to  the  pattern  of  perfeflion  ?  But  to  negled  this,  and 
chiefly  regard  our  temporal  affairs,  would  be  infinitely 
unworthy  of  beings  capable  of  the  higheft  purfuits, 
and  formed  for  immortality.  Why  fhould  we  have 
been  "  wifer  than  the  beafts  of  the  field,  or  the  fowls 
"  of  heaven,"  if  we  are  to  have  no  fublimer  aims  than 
they  ?  In  a  word,  we  could  never  vindicate  the  wif- 
dom  of  God  in  our  formation,  if  he  intended  us  for 
meaner  things  than  thofe  for  which  we  are  qualified. 
Therefore, 

D  2.  "  Such 


xviii  A  Funeral  Sermon 

2.  "  Such  a  life  is  mod  worthy  of  God  our  Maker.'* 
Nothing  can  appear  more  condecent  and  proper,  than 
that  he  who  is  ibe  beginnings  ihould  alfo  be  the  end; 
that  as  all  are  of  him,  all  ihould  be  to  him.  And  if  his 
glory  be  the  moft  excellent  thing,  and  He  the  moll 
perfecft  Being,  it  will/ieceflarily  follow,  that  he  cannot 
ultimately  defign  what  is  lefs  excellent.  Therefore  the 
fcripture  fpeaks  agreeable  to  everlafting  truth,  when 
it  aiTerts,  that  "  he  made  all  things  for  himfelf;"  and, 
that  "  for  his  pleafure  they  are,  and  were  created. "(''^^ 
And  can  it  be  rationally  fuppofed,  that  he  allows  us, 
whom  he  made  for  his  own  glory,  to  a6l  for  a  differ- 
ent or  oppofite  end .''  It  cannot.  We  muft  therefore 
peremptorily  affirm,  that  he  cannot,  in  confiftency  with 
his  perfedbions,  require  lefs,  than  that  "  whether  we 
"  eat  or  drink,  or  whatever  we  do,  we  fhould  do  all 
"  to  his  glory. 'YO  And  this  he  does  require,  not  be- 
caufe  lie  needs  our  fervice,  or  can  be  happier,  or  more 
glorious  in  himfelf  by  our  praifes,  but  becaufe  it  is  fit 
and  right,  and  refults  as  our  duty  from  the  eternal  rea- 
fon  of  things. 

3.  "  Such  a  life  is  our  ownhappinefs:"  for,  afling 
as  prefcribed,  we  move  in  our  proper  fphcre,  and  tend 
to  our  native  centre.  We  live  as  near  the  fountain  of 
bkffednefs  as  our  prefent  ftate  can  admit,  and  nothing 
can  be  fo  animating  as  the  glorious  and  blifsful  profpefts 
our  courfe  affords.  Our  hearts,  being  fixed  on  the  chief 
good,  are  at  reft,  and  no  more  tortured  with  anxious 
hefitation,  and  uneafy  fufpenfe,  as  to  what  we  fhall 
chufe  for  our  portion,  nor  do  our  defires  wander  in 
queft  of  a  more  fuitable  objed.  We  can  wifh  for  no 
more  but  the  full  enjoyment  of  God,  whom  we  "  ferve 
"  v/ith  our  fpiritsi"  whofe  ''  peace,  that  paffeth  all 
"  underftanding,  rules  in  our  hearts  •,"  and  for  whofe 
glory  we  hope,  fecure  from  confounding  difappointment 
in  the  day  oi  the  Lord. 

Now  methinks  every  attentive  hearer  prevents  my 
improvement  of  the  fubjed,  being  ready,  of  his  own 

accord 

[k)  Rev.  iv.  II.  (/)  I  Cor.  x.  31. 


on  the  Death  of  Mr.'DAW'E^:  xlx 

accord  to  make  fuch  refiedlions  as  thefe. — Hov;  ferene 
and  placid  is  the  life,  and  how  triumphant  muft  be  the 
death,  of  a  true  Chriftian ! — How  reafonable  a  fervice  do 
we  perform,  when  we  confecrate  ourfelves  to  the  Lord, 
and  receive  him,  freely  offering  himfelf  to  be  our  por- 
tion, our  father,  and  our  friend  !  None  can  plaufibly 
urge,  that  fome  things  unfit,  or  detrimental,  are  re- 
quired. None  can  pretend  a  confcientious  fcruple 
about  complying  with  the  propofal,  nor  dare  any,  how- 
ever fecredy  reludant,  openly  avow  their  diffent. 
Every  mouth  is  flopped,  and  all  acknowledge  their  ob- 
ligation to  this  plain  duty.  What  then  fhould  hinder 
the  unanimous  agreement  of  this  whole  afiembly  to  fo 
advantageous  an  overture  ?  Why  may  we  not  join  our- 
felves, this  day,  to  the  Lord  in  an  everlafting  cove- 
nant ?  Would  it  not  feem  uncharitable  to  fuppofe,  that 
any  one  in  this  chriftian  audience  rejefts  a  propofil  fo 
infinitely  juft  and  kind?  How  pleafing  is  the  very  im- 
agination of  an  univerfal  concurrence !  Not  only  would 
each  of  our  hearts  v/ho  are  here  prefent  exult,  but  un- 
numbered hofts  of  angels,  and  all  "  the  fpirits  of  juft 
^'  men  made  perfect"  would  rejoice. 

Since  therefore  all  things  that  pertain  to  our  prefent 
or  future  happinefs,  confpire  to  urge  this  point,  let  us 
with  one  accord,  in  the  moft  affectionate  and  reverent 
manner,  approach  the  throne  of  our  auguft  Sovereign, 
and  cheerfully  refign  ourfelves  to  him  for  ever  ;  fpend 
our  lives  in  his  fervice,  and  expedl  his  compenfating 
approbation  at  our  end. 

In  fome  fuch  ftrain,  but  more  diffufive  and  fublime, 
would  our  reverend  and  dear  deceafed  Friend  have  ad- 
dreffed  us  on  fuch  a  fubjedl.  We  may  imagine  how 
fervent  his  defire  was  of  "  living  to  the  Lord"  him- 
felf, and  perfuading  others  to  the  fame  courfe,  when  he 
fixed  on  this  for  the  fubjedl  of  his  Funeral  Sermon. 
Now,  as  it  is  generally  agreed  that  example  has  the 
moft  powerful  influence,  perhaps  a  few  fketches  of  his 
own  Life  and  Charader  may  beft  recommend  the  pre- 
ceding difcourfe,  as  they  will  prove  the  life  defcribed 

to 


XX  A  Funeral  Sermon 

to  be  pradicable.  And  though  he  on  whom  this  tafl-- 
is  devolved  owns  himfelf  inferior  to  it,  yet  he  is  en- 
couraged to  undertake  it  from  a  perfuafion,  that  a  fim- 
ple  and  unornamented  narrative  of  what  he  knows,  ei- 
ther pcrfonally  or  by  certain  information,  concerning 
Prefident  Davies,  willfet  him  in  a  very  agreeable  point 
of  light.  He  is  now  difintereiled  in  all  the  praifes  and 
cenfures  of  mortals,  and  can  neither  receive  benefit, 
or  fufrer  detriment  by  them-,  but  his  example  may 
profit  the  living,  as  it  tends  to  excite  a  laudable  emula- 
tion-, and  fome  brief  hints  of  the  difpenfacions  of  di- 
vine providence  towards  him  may  not  be  without  very 
ufeful  inftrudion. 

He  was  an  only  fon,  and,  which  is  more,  was  a  fon 
of  prayers  and  vows ;  was  given  in  anfwer  to  fervent 
fupplications,  and,  in  gratitude,  wholly  devoted  to 
God  from  the  womb  by  his  eminently  pious  mother, 
and  named  Samuel,  on  the  like  occafion  as  the  ancient 
Prophet.  The  event  proved,  that  God  accepted  the 
confecrated  Boy,  took  him  under  his  fpecial  care,  fur- 
nifhed  him  for,  and  employed  him  in  the  fervice  of  his 
church,  profpered  his  labours  with  remarkable  fuccefs, 
and  not  only  bleiTed  him,  but  made  himfelf  a  bleffing. 

The  firft  twelve  years  of  his  life  were  wafted  in  the 
moft  entire  negligence  of  God  and  Religion,  v,  hich  he 
often  afterv/ards  bitterly  lamented,  as  having  too  "  long 
"  wrought  the  will  of  the  flefli."  But  about  that  time 
the  God  to  whom  he  was  dedicated  by  his  Wor'^  and 
Spirit  awakened  him  to  folemn  thoughtfulntis,  and 
anxious  concern  about  his  eternal  ftate.  He  then  faw 
fufficient  reafon  to  dread  all  the  direful  efFe6ts  of  divine 
difpleafure  againft  fin.  And  fo  deeply  imprinted  v/as 
the  rational  fenfe  of  his  danger,  as  to  make  him  habi- 
tually uneafy  and  refllefs,  until  he  might  obtain  fatisfy- 
ing  fcriptural  evidence  of  his  interefi:  in  the  forgiving 
love  of  God. 

While  thus  exercifed  he  clearly  faw  the  abfolutc  ne- 
cefTity,  and  certain  reality  of  the  gofpel-plan  of  falva- 
tion,  and  what  abundant  and  fuitable  provifion  it  makes 

for 


on  the  Death  of  Air.  D  a v  i  e  s .  xxi 

for  all  the  wants  of  a  finner.  No  other  folid  ground 
of  hope,  or  unfailing  fource  of  comfort  could  he  find, 
befides  the  merits  and  righteoufnefs  of  him,  "  whom 
"  God  fet  forth  to  be  a  propitiation  for  fin,  through  faith 
"  in  his  blood.'Y^^^  O^i  this  righteoufnefs  he  was  en- 
abled confidently  to  depend  ;  by  this  blood  his  confci- 
ence  was  purged  from  guilt ;  and  "  believing,  he  re- 
"  joiced  with  joy  unfpeakable,  and  full  of  glory. "C»^ 
Yet  he  was  afterwards  exercifed  with  many  perplexing 
doubts  for  a  long  feafon,  but  at  length,  after  years  of 
impartial  repeated  felf-examination,  he  attained  to  a  fet- 
tled confidence  of  his  intereft  in  redeeming  Grace, 
which  he  retained  to  the  end. 

A  dairy,  which  he  kept  in  the  firft  years  of  his  reli- 
gious life,  and  continued  to  keep  as  long  as  his  leifure 
would  permit,  clearly  fhews  how  intenfely  his  mind 
was  fet  on  heavenly  things  •,  how  obfervant  he  was  of 
the  temper  of  his  heart;  and  how  watchful  over  all  his 
thoughts,  words,  and  adions.  Did  any  cenfure  his 
foibles,  or  juvenile  indifcretions  ?  They  would  have 
done  it  compafiionately,  had  thev  known  how  feverely 
he  cenfured  them  himfelf.  The  tribunal  daily  eredled 
in  his  own  bofom  was  more  critical  in  fcrutinizing,  and 
more  impartial  and  fevere  in  paffing  fentence,  than  ei- 
ther his  fi-iends  or  enemies  could  be. 

His  love  to  God,  and  tender  concern  for  perifhing 
finners,  excited  his  eager  defire  of  being  in  a  fituation 
to  ferv':  mankind  to  the  bed  advantage.  With  this 
view  he  engaged  in  the  purfuit  of  learning,  in  which, 
amidilmany  obvious  inconveniences,  he  madefurprif- 
ing  progrefs,  and,  fooner  than  could  have  been  expell- 
ed, was  found  competently  qualified  for  the  minifterial 
office.  He  pafied  the  ufual  previous  trials  with  uncom- 
mon approbation  ;  having  exceeded  the  raifed  expeda- 
tions  of  his  moft  intimate  friends  and  admirers. 

When  h*^.  was  licenfed  to  preach  the  gofpel,  he  zea- 
loufly  declared  the  counfel  of  God,  the  truth  and  im- 
portance of  which  he  knew  by  happy  experience ;  and 

did 
[m)  Rom.  iii.  25.  [n]  i  Pet.  i.  8. 


xxii  'A  Funeral  Sermon 

did  it  in  fuch  a  manner  as  excited  the  earneft  defires  of 
every  vacant  congregation,  v/liere  he  was  known,  to 
obtain  the  happinefs  of  his  ftated  miniftrations.  But, 
iar  from  gratifying  his  natural  inclination  to  the  fociety 
ot  his  friends,  or  confulting  his  eafe,  moved  by  con- 
fcience  of  duty,  he  undertook  the  felf-denying  charge 
of  a  difl'enting  congregation  in  Virginia,  feparated  from 
all  his  Brethren,  and  expofed  to  the  cenfure  and  refent- 
ment  of  many.  But  the  more  he  was  knovv^n  in  thofe 
parts,  the  more  were  prejudices  removed ;  contempt 
was  gradually  turned  into  reverence;  the  number  of 
his  enemies  daily  diminifhed,  and  his  friends  increafed. 

Nor  did  he  there  labour  in  vain,  or  "  fpend  his 
"  ftrength  for  nought."  The  "  I^ord,  who  counted 
"  him  faithful,  putting  him  into  the  miniflry,"  fuc- 
ceeded  his  faithful  endeavours,  fo  that  a  great  number, 
both  of  whites  and  blacks,  v/ere  hopefully  converted  to 
t\\Q  living  God  :  for  the  proof  of  this,  I  muft  refer  you 
to  his  own  narrative,  fent  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Bellamy,  and 
by  him  publifhed,  and  to  his  letters  to  fome  gentlemen 
of  the  Society  in  London  for  propagating  Religion  among 
the  Poor. 

As  to  his  natural  genius,  it  Vv^as  flrong  and  mafcu- 
line.  His  underftanding  was  clear;  his  memory  re- 
tentive; his  invention  quick;  his  imagination  lively 
and  florid ;  his  thoughts  fublimc ;  and  his  language 
elegant,  ftrong,  and  expreffive.  And  I  cannot  but 
prefume  that  true  and  candid  critics  will  readily  difcern 
a  great  degree  of  true  poetic  fire,  ftile,  and  imagery, 
in  his  poetical  compofitions  ;  and  will  grant  that  he  was 
capable  to  have  ihone  in  that  way,  had  his  leifure  per- 
mitted the  due  cultivation  of  his  natural  talent. 

His  appearance  in  company  was  manly  and  graceful ; 
his  behaviour  genteel,  not  ceremonious;  grave,  yet 
pleafant ;  and  folid,  but  fprighdy  too.  In  a  word,  he 
was  an  open,  converfable,  and  entertaining  Companion, 
a  polite  Gentleman,  and  devout  Chriftian,  at  once. 

In  the  facred  Defk,  zeal  for  God,  and  love  to  men, 
animated  his  addrefles,  and  made  them  tender,  folemn, 

pungent. 


on  the  Death  of  Mr.  Davies.  xxlii 

pungent,  and  perfuaflvei  while  at  the  fame  time  they 
were  ingenious,  accurate,  and  oratorial.  A  certain 
dignity  of  fentiment  and  ftile,  a  venerable  prefence,  a 
commanding  voice,  and  emphatlcal  delivery,  concurred 
both  to  charm  his  audience,  and  overawe  them  into 
filence  and  attention. 

Nor  vvas  his  ufefulnefs  confined  to  the  Pulpit.  His 
comprehenfive  mind  could  take  under  view  the  grand 
interefts  of  his  Country  and  of  Religion  at  once  \  and 
thefe  interefts,  as  well  as  thofe  of  his  Friends,  he  was 
ever  ready  zealoufly  to  fervc.  It  is  known  what  an 
a6tive  inftrument  he  was  in  ftirrlng  up  a  patriot  fpirit,  a 
fpirit  of  courage  and  refolutlon  in  Virginia^  where  he 
refided  during  the  late  barbarous  French  and  Indian 
ravages. 

His  natural  temper  v/as  remarkably  fweet  and  dlf- 
paflionate  j*  and  his  heart  was  one  of  the  tendereft  to- 
wards the  dlftrefied.  His  fympathetic  foul  could  fay, 
"  Who  is  weak,  and  I  am  not  weak  ?"  Accordingly 
his  charitable  difpofitlon  made  him  liberal  to  the  poor, 
and  that  often  beyond  his  ability.  He  was  eminently 
obliging  to  all,  and  very  fenfible  of  favours  conferred  -, 
which  he  could  receive  without  fervility,  and  manifeft 
his  grateful  fenfe  of  them  with  proper  dignity. 

To  his  friend  he  was  voluntarily  tranfparent,  and 
fully  afted  up  to  the  Foei''s  advice  : 

Thy  friend  put  in  thy  bofom  :  wear  his  eyes 
Still  in  thy  heart,  that  he  may  fee  what's  there. 

And  perhaps  none  better  underftood  the  ingenuities  and 
delicacies  of  friendfhip,  or  had  an  higher  rellfli  for  it, 
or  was  truer  or  more  conftant  In  it  than  he.  He  was 
not  eafily  difgufted:  his  knowledge  of  human  nature 
in  Its  prefent  ftate,  his  candid  heart,  and  enlarged  foul 
both  dlfpofing  and  enabling  him  to  make  allowances  for 
indifcretlons,  which  narrower  and  more  felfifh  minds 

could 

*  The  Rev.  Mr.  John  Rodgers,  one  of  his  mofl:  intimate  friends,  in 
a  letter  to  me  fince  his  death,  fays,  "  I  never  favv  him  angry  during 
"  feveral  years  of  unbounded  intimacy,  though  I  have  repeatcdlv 
y  known  him  to  have  been  unger.croully  treatsd." 


XXIV  A  Funeral  Sermon 

could  not  make.  He  readily  and  eafily  forgave  ofFences 
againft  himfelf,  whilfl  none  could  be  more  careful  to 
avoid  offending  others ;  which,  if  he  at  any  time  inad- 
vertently did,  he  was  forward  and  defirous  to  make  the 
moft  ample  fatisfadion. 

He  was  amongft  the  firft  and  brighteft  examples  of 
filial  piety,  a  very  indulgent  parent,  and  humane  maf- 
ter.  As  an  hufband  he  was  kind,  tender,  cordial,  and 
refpeftful,  with  a  fondnefs  that  was  manly  and  genuine. 
In  a  word,  think  what  might  rationally  be  expedled, 
in  the  prefent  imperfect  ftate,  in  a  mature  Man,  a  Chrif- 
tian  in  minority,  a  Minifter  of  Jesus  of  like  paffions 
with  others,  in  a  Gentleman,  Companion,  and  cordial 
Friend,  and  you  conceive  of  Prefident  Davies. 

It  would  hardly  be  expedled,  that  one  fo  rigid  with 
refpedl  to  his  ov/n -faith  and  practice,  could  be  fo  gene- 
rous and  catholic  in  his  fentiments  of  thofe  who  differ- 
ed from  him  in  both,  as  he  was.  He  was  ftrid,  not 
bigoted;  confcientious,  not  fqueamifhly  fcrupulous. 
His  clear  and  extenfive  knowledge  of  religion  enabled 
him  to  difcern  where  the  main  ftrefs  ihould  be  laid,  and 
to  proportion  his  zeal  to  the  importance  of  things,  too 
generous  to  be  confined  to  the  interefts  of  a  party  as 
fuch.  He  confidered  the  vifible  kingdom  of  Christ 
as  extended  beyond  the  boundaries  of  this  or  that  par- 
ticular denomination,  and  never  fuppofed  that  his  de- 
clarative glory  was  wholly  dependent  on  the  religious 
community  which  he  moft  approved.  Hence  he  glo- 
ried more  in  being  a  Chriftian,  than  in  being  a  Pre/by- 
terian^  though  he  was  the  latter  from  principle.  His 
truly  catholic  addrels  to  the  eftablifned  Clergy  of  Vir- 
ginia is  a  demonftration  of  the  fincere  pleafure  it  would 
have  given  him,  to  have  heard  that  "  Christ  was 
preached,"  and  fubftantial  religion,  common  Chrifti- 
anity,  promoted  by  thofe  who  "  walked  not  with  him," 
and  whom  he  judged  in  other  points  to  be  miftaken. 
His  benevolent  heart  could  not  be  fo  foured,  nor  his 
enlarged  foul  fo  contrafted,  as  to  value  men  from  cir- 
cumilantial  diftindions,  but  according  to  their  perfonal 
v/orth.  He 


on  the  Heath  of  Mr,  Davies.  xxv 

He  fought  truth  for  its  own  fake,  and  would  profefs 
his  fentiments  with  the  undifguifed  opennefs  of  an 
honeft  Christian,  and  the  inoftenfive  boldnefs  of  a 
manly  fpirit :  yet,  without  the  leaft  apparent  difBculty 
or  hefitation,  he  would  retraft  an  opinion  on  full  con- 
viftion  of  its  being  a  miftake.  I  have  never  known 
one,  who  appeared  to  lay  himfelf  more  fully  open  to 
the  reception  of  truth,  from  whatever  quarter  it  came, 
than  he;  for  he  judged  the  knowledge  of  truth  only 
to  be  real  learning,  and  that  endeavouring  to  defend 
an  error  was  but  labouring  to  be  more  ignorant.  But, 
until  fully  convinced,  he  was  becomingly  tenacious  of 
his  opinion. 

The  unavoidable  confcioufnefs  of  nati^'ie  power  made 
him  bold  and  enterprizing.  Yet  the  event  proved  that 
his  boldnefs  arofe  not  from  a  partial,  groundlefs  felf- 
conceit,  but  from  true  felf-knowledge.  Upon  fair  and 
candid  trial,  faithful  and  juft  to  himfelf,  he  judged  what 
he  could  do  •,  and  what  he  could,  when  called  to  it,  he 
attempted;  and  what  he  attempted  he  accomplifhcd. 

It  may  here  be  properly  obferved,  that  he  was  chofen 
by  the  Synod  of  New-Tork^  at  the  inftance  of  the  Truf- 
tees  of  New-Jerfey  College,  as  a  fit  perfon  to  accom- 
pany the  Rev.  Mr.  Gilbert  Tennent  to  Great-Britain  and 
Ireland,  in  order  to  folic! t  benefadions  for  the  faid  col- 
lege. As  this  manifefted  the  high  opinion  which  both 
the  Synod  and  Corporation  entertained  of  his  popular 
talents  and  fuperior  abilities,  fo  his  ready  compliance 
to  undertake  that  fervice,  hazardous  and  difficult  in  it- 
felf,  and  precarious  in  its  confequences,  which  required 
him  to  overlook  his  domeftic  conneflions,  however 
tender  and  endearing,  manifefted  his  refolution  and  felf- 
denial.  How  well  he  was  qualified  as  a  folicitor,  is 
witnefled  by  tl*e  numerous  and  large  benefaftions  he 
received.  His  fervices,  as  was  meet,  were  gratefully 
accepted  by  his  conftituents ;  and  to  the  pious,  gene- 
rous, and  public-fpirited  charity  of  the  friends  of  Re.- 
ligion  and  Learning  in  Great-Britain,  received  on  that 

E  occafion. 


xxvi  A  Funeral  Sermon 

occafion,  does  the  college  of  New-Jerfey,  in  a  great 
degree,  owe  its  prefent  flourifhing  condition. 

As  his  light  fhone,  his  abilities  to  fill  the  Prefident*s 
chair  in  this  College,  then  vacant,  was  not  doubted  by 
the  honourable  board  of  Truftces.  He  was  according- 
ly chofen,  and  earneftly  invited  to  accept  the  charge 
of  this  Society.  Yet  he  once  and  again  excufed  him- 
feif,  not  being  convinced  that  he  was  called  in  duty  to 
leave  his  then  important  province.  But  repeated  ap- 
plication at  length  prevailed  to  make  him  apprehend 
that  it  was  the  will  of  God  he  fhould  accept  the  call ; 
yet,  left  he  fhould  miftake  in  fo  important  a  cafe,  he 
withheld  his  exprefs  confent,  until  the  Reverend  Synod 
of  New-Tork  and  Philadelphia  gave  their  opinion  in 
favour  of  the  College.  This  determined  his  dubious 
mind.  He  came,  and  undertook  the  weighty  charge. 
And  what  were  the  confequences  ?  had  his  inceffant 
labours  in  travelling  and  preaching  the  gofpel,  his  dif- 
advantageous  fituation,  and  want  of  opportunity  for 
improvement  made  fome  of  his  beft  friends  diffident 
of  his  capacity  and  acquirements  for  moving  with 
honour  in  this  unaccuftomed  fphere  ?  He  agreeably 
difappointed  their  friendly  fears,  and  convinced  them 
that  ftrength  of  genius,  joined  to  induftrious  applica- 
tion, had  furmounted  all  other  difadvantages.  Had 
any  fuch  raifed  expecftations  as  feemed  hard  to  anfwer  ^ 
they  were  fully  fatisfied  :  fo  that  from  being  highly  ap- 
proved he  came  to  be  admired. 

His  manner  of  conducing  the  College  did  honour 
to  himfelf,  and  promoted  its  interefts.  Whatever  al- 
terations in  the  plans  of  education  he  introduced  were 
confefledly  improvements  on  thofe  of  his  predecefTors. 
Had  I  never  had  other  means  of  intelligence,  fave  only 
my  knowledge  of  the  man,  I  fhould  naturally  have 
expelled  that  all  his  public  appearances  would  have  been 
conducted  with  fpirit,  elegance,  and  decorum ;  that  his 
government  would  be  mild  and  gentle,  tempered  with 
wifdom  and  authority,  and  calculated  to  command  re- 
verence 


on  the  Death  of  Mr.  Da  vies.  xxvii 

verence  while  it  attradted  love,  and  that  his  manner  of 
teaching  would  be  agreeable  and  ftriking. 

But  I  propofe  not  thefe  as  mere  conje(5lures.  The 
learned  Tutors  of  the  College,  the  partners  of  his 
counfels  and  deliberations  for  its  good,  and  thefe  young 
Gentlemen,  once  his  care  and  charge,  who  judged 
themfelves  happy  under  his  tuition,  all  know  more  than 
I  fhall  fpeak. 

You  know  the  tendernefs  and  condefcenfion  with 
which  he  treated  you  -,  the  paternal  care  with  which  he 
watched  over  you;  the  rdudlance  with  which  he  at 
any  time  inflided  the  prefcribed  punifhment  on  a  de- 
linquent -,  and  how  pleafed  he  was  to  fucceed  in  reform- 
ing any  abufe  by  private  and  eafy  methods.  You  felt 
yourfelves  voluntarily  confined  by  the  reftraints  of  love, 
and  obliged  tofubjedlion,  not  from  flavifh  fear,  but  from 
principle  and  inclination.  You  have  yet  frefh  in  me- 
mory his  inftrudcive  Ledures,  and  can  tell  with  what 
eafe  he  communicated  his  fentiments,  and  imprefled 
his  ideas  on  your  minds,  and  the  entertaining  manner 
in  which  he  would  reprefent  even  a  common  thought. 

But  his  perfuafive  voice  you  will  hear  no  more.  He 
is  removed  far  from  mortals,  has  taken  his  arial  flight, 
and  left  us  to  lament,  that  "  a  great  man  is  fallen  in 
"  Ifrael  !'*  He  lived  much  in  a  little  time;  "he 
"  finifhed  his  courfe,"  performed  fooner  than  many 
others  his  affigned  tafk,  and,  in  that  view,  might  be 
faid  to  have  died  mature.  He  fhone  like  a  light  fet  in 
a  high  place,  that  burns  out  and  expires. 

He  went  through  every  ftage  of  honour  and  ufeful- 
nefs,  compatible  to  his  character  as  a  diflenting  Clergy- 
man :  and,  while  we  flattered  our  fond  hopes  of  emi- 
nent fervices  from  him  for  many  years  to  come,  the 
fatal  blow  was  flruck :  our  pleafing  profpe6ls  are  all  at 
an  end,  and  he  is  cut  down  like  a  tree  that  had  yielded 
much  fruit,  and  was  loaden  with  blofibms  even  in  its 
fall. 

This  difpen^tion,  how  myfterious  !  how  aftonifliing  ! 
nay,  how  difcouraging  does  it  feem !     Why  v/as  he 

raifed. 


xxviii  A  Funeral  Sermon 

raifed,  by  Divine  Providence,  in  the  prime  of  life,  to 
fo  important  a  ftation,  and,  amidfl:  ufeful  labours, 
■u'hilft  he  Vv'as  faft  increafing  in  ftrength  adapted  to  his 
bufmefs,  quickly  fnatched  away  ?  This  is  a  perplex- 
ing cafe  ;  and  the  more  fo  that  it  fo  foon  fvicceeded  the 
yet  fnorter  continuance  of  the  venerable  Edwards. 
Were  they  fet  in  fo  ccnfpicuous  a  point  of  view,  only 
that  their  imitable  excellencies  might  be  more  obferva- 
ble  ?  or,  v/as  Najfau-Hall  erecfced  by  Divine  Provi- 
dence for  this,  among  other  important  purpofes,  that 
it  might  ferve  to  adorn  the  latter  end  of  fome  eminent 
fervants  of  the  living  God,  itfelf  being  adorned  by 
them  ?  In  this  view,  the  fhort  Prefidency  of  a  Dickin- 
fon^  a  Burr^  an  Edwards^  and  a  Davies,  initead  of  ar- 
guing the  difpleafure  of  the  Almighty,  will  evidence 
His  peculiar  favour  to  this  inftitution-,  which  I  know 
was  planned,  snd  has  been  carried  on  with  the  mofl 
pious,  benevolent,  and  generous  defigns.  Thefe  de- 
signs God's  goodnefs  has  hitherto  amazingly  profpered, 
amidft  apparent  frowns ;  and,  if  we  may  infer  any 
thing  from  what  he  has  already  done,  it  is  an  encourag- 
ing expedtation  that  he  will  continue  to  blefs  this  Socie- 
ty, and  miake  it  an  honour  and  happinefs  to  this  vene- 
rable Board  to  have  been  engaged  in  (o  noble  and  fuc- 
cefsful  an  undertaking. 

Now  one  more  fhining  orb  is  fet  on  our  world. 
Davies  is  departed,  and  with  him  all  that  love,  zeal, 
adtivity,  and  benevolence,  for  which  he  was  remarka- 
ble. This  the  Church,  and  this  the  bereaved  College 
mourns.  For  this  we  hang  our  once  cheerful  harps, 
and  indulge  to  plaintive  ftrains.  Yet  we  are  not  to  la- 
ment as  thofe  who  are  hopelefs,  but  rather  with  hum- 
ble confidence  to  "  pray  the  Lord  of  the  harveft," 
with  whom  is  "  the  refidue  of  the  Spirit,"  that  he 
would  fend  forth  another  Davies  to  affift  our  labour 
and  forward  his  work. 

Nor  fliould  the  deceafe  of  ufeful  labourers,  the  ex- 
tindion  of  burning  and  fhining  lights,  bnly  fend  us  to 
the  throne  of  grace  for  fupplies,  but  excite  us  to  greater 

diligence 


on  the  Death  of  Mr.  T) AY I'E^.  xxix 

diligence  and  adivlty  in  our  bufinefs,  as  we  have  for 
the  prefent  the  more  to  do.  And,  inftead  of  being 
difpirited  by  the  lofs  of  fuch  eminent  afliftants,  we 
Ihould  be  animated  by  their  example,  and  hope  for  the 
fame  divine  aids  that  carried  them  through  all  the  duties 
and  dangers  of  life  with  fafety,  fuccefs,  and  honour. 

Finally,  this  difpenfation  ihould  lefien  our  efteem  of 
this  tranfitory  difappointing  world,  and  raife  our  affec- 
tions to  Heaven,  that  place  and  ftate  of  permanent 
bleffednefs.  Thither  afcends,  as  to  its  native  home, 
all  the  goodnefs  that  departs  from  earth  :  and  the  more 
of  our  pious  friends  that  go  to  glory,  fo  many  more 
fecondary  motives  have  we  to  excite  our  defires  of  "  de- 
"  parting  and  being  with  Christ  ;  which  is  far  better" 
than  any  ftate  under  the  fun  :  for  there,  in  addition  to 
fuperior  felicity,  "  we  fhall  come  to  the  general  aflem- 
"  bly,  and  church  of  the  firft-born  who  are  written 
'*  in  Heaven, — and  to  the  fpirits  of  juft  men  made 
"  perfed."Ci?j     Amen. 

[o]  Heb.  xiii.  23. 


AN 


A     K 

APPEND     IX. 


THE  following  fads,  drawn  up  by  a  gentleman, 
who  was  Mr.  Davies's  intimate  Friend,  and  liv- 
ed in  the  fame  town  with  him,  while  he  was  Prefident 
of  the  College,  were  collefled  partly  from  Mr.  Davies's 
private  papers,  and  partly  from  the  gentleman's  per- 
gonal knowledge,  and,  as  they  illuftrate  feveral  things 
juft  hinted  in  the  preceding  difcourfe,  and  contain  fome 
anecdotes  not  before  mentioned,  may  be  properly  fub- 
joined  to  the  narrative  already  given. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Samuel  Davies,  late  Prefident  of  the 
College  of  New-Jerfey^  was  born  on  the  3d  day  of 
November,  A.  D.  1724,  in  the  counVf  o^  Newcajile,  on 
Delaware.  His  father  was  a  planter,  who  lived  with 
great  plainnefs  and  fimplicity,  and  fupported  the  cha- 
rader  of  an  honefl:  and  pious  man  to  his  death ;  which 
happened  about  two  years  ago.  His  mother,  who  is 
flill  living*,  and  greatly  diftinguifhed  for  her  eminent 
piety,  fome  time  before  the  conception  of  this  favou- 
rite only  fon,  earneftly  defired  fuch  a  blefling;  and  as 
fhe  then  had  only  borne  a  daughter,  who  was  near  five 
years  old,  fhe  had  fpecial  occafion  for  the  exercife  of  her 
faith,  in  waiting  for  the  divine  anfwer  to  her  petition. 
In  this  fituation  fhe  took  example  from  the  mother  of 
the  prophet  Samuel,  and  "  Vowed  a  vow  unto  the 
**  Lord  -,  that  if  he  would  indeed  give  her  a  man- 
"  child,  (he  would  devote  him  to  his  fervice  all  the  days 
«ofhislife.'Yi>; 

It 

*  The  reader  is  defired  to  obferve  that  the  following  account  was 
drawn  up  fome  years  ago,  fince  which  time  I  find  it  has  pleafed  Pro- 
vidence to  remove  from  our  world  the  Mother  of  Mr.  Davies,  who 
is  mentioned  as  living  by  the  wiiter  of  the  Appendix. 

.     {/>)  I  Sam.  i.  1 1. 


xxxil  APPENDIX. 

It  may  well  be  fuppofed  that  the  parents  received 
this  child  as  from  GdD,  and  that  the  mother  efpeclally, 
who  had  reafon  to  look  upon  him  as  a  token  of  the 
divine  favour,  and  an  exprefs  anfwer  to  her  prayers, 
would,  with  the  greateft  tendernefs,  begin  the  rearing 
of  this  beloved  plant.  As  there  was  no  fchbol  in  the 
neighbourhood,  fhe  herfelf  taught  him  to  read  :  and, 
although  he  was  then  very  young,  he  is  faid  to  have 
made  fuch  proficiency  as  furprifed  every  perfon  who 
heard  it. 

He  continued  at  home  with  his  parents  till  he  was 
about  ten  years  old;  during  which  time  he  appeared 
to  have  no  remarkable  impreffions  of  a  religious  kind ; 
but  behaving  himfelf  as  is  common  for  a  fprightly  to- 
wardly  child,  under  the  influence  of  pious  example  and 
inftrudlion.  He  was  then  fent  to  an  Englifh  fchool,  at 
fome  diftance  from  his  father's,  where  he  continued  two 
years,  and  made  great  progrefs  in  his  learning  -,  but, 
for  want  of  the  pious  inftrudtion  with  which  he  was 
favoured  at  home,  he  grew  fomewhat  more  carelefs  of 
the  things  of  religion. 

It  appears,  that  about  this  time  of  life,  carelefs  as 
he  was,  he  made  a  pra6tice  of  fecret  prayer,  efpecially 
in  the  evening.  The  reafons  (as  he  tells  it  in  liis  diary) 
why  he  was  fo  pun6tual  in  the  evening  was,  that  "  he 
"  feared  left  he  fhould  perhaps  die  before  morning." 
What  is  farther  obfervable  in  his  prayers  at  this  time  is, 
that  "  he  was  more  ardent  in  his  fupplications  for  be- 
"  ing  introduced  into  the  GofpelrMiniftry,  than  for 
"  any  other  thing." 

[Itishereprefumed  that  Dr.  Finley^s  Sermon,  preach- 
ed on  occafion  of  his  Death,  bv  defire  of  the  Truftees, 
contains  fufficient  Memorials  of  his  Life,  from  the 
time  in  which  it  pleafed  God  more  deeply  tg  imprefs 
his  mind  with  the  important  realities  of  another  world, 
until  he  was  ele(5led  President  of  the  College.] 

It  may  perhaps  not  be  amifs  to  mention  that  when  he 
returned  home  from  his  voyage  to  Great-Britain,  he  en- 
tered again  on  his  laborious  and  beloved  taik  of  preach- 


APPENDIX.  xxxlli 

ing  the  Gorpel  to  his  feveral  Congregations  •,  and  con- 
tinued in  this  work  until  the  year  1759,  when  he  was 
eledled  Prefident  of  the  College  of  New-Jerjey^  in  the 
room  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Jonathan  Edwards.     The  Col- 
lege, before  he  came,  had  been  in  an  unhappy  fitua- 
tion ;  partly  owing  to  the  length  of  that  melancholy 
period  between  the  death  of  Prefident  Burr  and  his  ac- 
cefTion,  and  partly  to  the  evil  difpofitions  and  praftices 
of  a  few  members  of  the  Society.  Prefident  Burr  died 
m  September,  lySJ-  ^'^'^  although  yiv.  Edwards  Vf2is 
elcifled  a  few  days  after,  he  did  not  take  upon  himfelf 
the  government  of  the  College  till  February,   1758; 
and  about  a  fortnight  after  took  the  fmall-pox,  of  which 
he  died  in  March  following.     Mr.  Davies  was  not  ini- 
tiated in  his  office  till  the  latter  end  of  July,   1759. 
So  that  the  College  lay  under  the  obvious  difadvantages 
of  a  bereaved  condition  for  almoft  two  years.     But  the 
prudent  meafures  taken  by  Prefident  Davies  fcon  fur- 
mounted  thefe  difadvantages  ;  fo  that  in  a  few  months 
a  fpirit  of  emulation  in  Learning  and  Morality,  as  had 
been  ufual,    evidently  charafterized  the  Students  of 
NaJ/au-Hail. 

While  he  continued  Prefident  his  labours  were  great, 
and  his  application  to  ftudy  was  neceffarily  more  in- 
tenfe  than  that  of  his  predecefibrs.  For  he  came  to 
this  feat  of  the  Mufes,  when  its  learning,  by  the  emi- 
nent abilities  of  Prefident  Burr,  was  advanced  to  a 
very  confiderable  degree  •,  and  he  had  juft  emerged 
from  a  fea  of  minifterial  labour  in  various  places,  where- 
in a  common  Genius  would  have  been  able  to  have 
made  but  little  improvement  in  academical  learning. 
Befides,  the  fpeedy  paflage  he  made  through  the  courfe 
of  his  ftudies,  previous  to  his  entering  into  the  minif- 
try,  made  his  after  application  the  more  neceflary  for 
fo  important  and  elevated  a  fituation:  He  was  deter- 
mined not  to  degrade  his  office,  but  to  be  in  reality 
what  his  ftation  fuppofed  him,  and  accordingly  exert- 
ed himfelf  to  the  utmoft.  The  labours  of  the  day 
feemed  to  him  rather  an  incentive  to  ftudy  than  to  reft 

F  in 


xxxiv  APPENDIX. 

in  the  night;  for  he  commonly  fat  up  till  twelve  o'clock, 
and  often  later,  although  he  rofe  by  break  of  day.  The 
fuccefs  was  proportionable;  for  bv  the  mighty  efforts 
of  his  great  genius,  and  by  dint  of  induftry,  he  left  the 
College  o^  New-Jerfey^  at  his  death,  in  as  high  a  ftate 
of  literary  merit  as  it  ever  had  been  in  fince  its  firft 
inftitution. 

It  is  a  piece  of  juftice  due  to  his  memory  to  remark, 
that  the  few  innovations  he  made  in  the  academical  ex- 
ercifes,  were  certainly  improvements  upon  the  plans 
of  his  predeceflbrs.  Among  other  things  the  monthly 
Orations  he  inftituted  deferve  particular  notice.  In  or- 
der to  give  his  Pupils  a  tafte  for  compoiition,  and  to 
form  them  for  public  fpeaking,  he  direded  the  mem- 
bers of  the  fenior  clafs  each  to  choofe  his  fubjedt,  and 
compofe  a  popular  harangue  to  be  delivered  publicly 
in  the  College-Hall  before  the  Matters  and  Students, 
and  as  many  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  town. as  chofe 
to  attend.  When  each  had  written  his  difcourfe,  he 
brought  it  to  the  Prefident,  who  made  fuch  obferva- 
tions  and  correftions  as  he  judged  proper;  and,  after 
their  difcourfes  were  fpoken,  they  feverally  attended 
him  again  for  his  remarks  on  their  delivery.  About 
fix  of  the  young  Gentlemen  ufually  delivered  their 
Orations  in  the  afternoon  of  the  firft  Wednejday  in  every 
Month,  to  crowded  audiences ;  and  it  is  hard  to  fay, 
whether  the  entertainment  of  the  hearers,  or  the  im- 
provement of  the  ftudents,  was  the  greater. 

There  is  reafon  to  believe,  that  the  intenfe  applica- 
tion with  which  Mr.  Davies  attended  to  the  duties  of 
his  ofRce  was  one  great  caufe  of  his  death.  The  habit 
of  his  body  was  plethoric  :  and  it  is  not  to  be  doubted 
but  that  his  health  for  fome  years  had  very  much  de- 
pended upon  the  exercife  of  riding,  to  which  he  was 
neceffarily  obliged  while  he  lived  in  Virginia,  though 
even  then  he  had  feveral  fevere  fevers,  fuppofed  to  arife 
principally  from  his  application  to  ftudy  in  the  intervals 
of  riding  abroad.  When  he  came  to  the  College  he 
fcarcely  ufed  any  bodily  exercife,  fave  Vvhat  was  requir- 
ed 


APPENDIX.  XXXV 

ed  in  going  from  Iiis  own  houfe  to  Najjau-Hall,  which 
is  a  fpace  about  ten  rods,  five  or  fix  times  a  day. 

In  the  latter  end  of  January-,  A.  D.  1761,  a  had 
cold  feized  him,  and  for  his  relief  he  was  bled.  The 
fame  day  he  tranfcribed  for  the  prefs  the  Sermon,  which 
was  foon  after  publifhed,  on  the  death  of  the  late  Kmg, 
and  the  day  after  preached  twice  in  the  College-Hall ; 
by  all  which  the  arm,  in  which  he  was  bled,  became 
much  inflamed,  and  increafed  his  former  indifpofition. 
On  the  Monday  morning  after,  at  breakfaft,  he  was  feiz- 
ed with  a  violent  chilly  fit,  which  was  fucceeded  by  an 
inflammatory  fever,  and,  in  t^n  days  brought  on  the 
period  of  his  important  life. 

Although  premonitions  of  Death  in  the  prefent  flate 
of  the  world  are  feldom,  if  ever,  given  to  mankind ; 
and  they  who  are  difpofed  to  interpret  ordinary  occur- 
rences into  fuch  premonitions,  when,  by  fomething 
limilar  in  the  event  thofe  occurrences  would  feem  as  if 
predidive,  generally  difcover  their  weaknefs ;  yet  the 
circumftances  of  the  death  of  an  eminent  perfon  are 
commonly  very  acceptable  to  the  public,  and  for  this 
reafon  it  may  not  be  amifs  to  mention  an  anecdote  which 
Mr.  Davies  more  than  once  took  notice  of  in  his  laft 
flcknefs. 

An  intimate  Friend  of  his,  a  few  days  before  the 
beginning  of  the  year  in  which  he  died,  in  converfa- 
tion  told  him,  that  a  Sermon  would  be  expeded  from 
him  on  the  new  year's  day  -,  and,  among  other  things, 
happened  to  mention  that  the  late  Prefident  Burr^  on 
the  firft  day  of  the  year  wherein  he  died,  preached  a 
Sermon  onjer.  xxviii.  16.  Thus  faith  the  Lord,  This 
year  thoujhah  die ;  and  after  his  death,  the  people  took 
occafion  to  fay  it  was  premonitory ;  upon  which  Mr. 
Davies  obferved,  that  "  although  it  ought  not  to  be 
"  viewed  in  that  light,  yet  it  was  very  remarkable.'' 
When  new  year's  day  came  he  preached  ;  and  the  con- 
gregation were  not  a  little  furprized  at  his  taking  the 
fame  text  of  fcripture.  Upon  his  being  taken  with  his 
laft  ficknefs,  about  three  weeks  after,  he  foon  adverted 

to 


xxxvi  APPENDIX. 

to  this  circumftance,  and  mentioned  it  as  remarkable 
that  he  had  been  undelignedly  led  to  preach,  as  it  were, 
his  own  Funeral  Sermon. 

It  is  much  to  be  lamented  that  the  violence  of  the 
diforder,  of  which  this  excellent  man  died,  deprived 
him  of  the  regular  exeixife  of  his  reafon  the  greater  part 
of  the  time  of  his  ficknefs,  otherwife  the  public  would 
undoubtedly  have  been  gratified  with  his  remarks  on 
the  views  of  an  approaching  eternity,  and  would  have 
received  another  evidence  of  the  fuperior  excellency 
and  power  of  that  Religion,  which  alone  can  fupport 
the  foul,  and  make  the,  otherwife  gloomy,  profped  of 
death  cheerful.     For  the  ifllies  of  this  decifive  period 
his  life  had  been  eminently  calculated  from  his  youth. 
It  abundantly  appears,  that  from  twelv,e  or  fourteen 
years  of  age,  he  had  continually  maintained  the  ftrid- 
eft  watch  over  his  thoughts  and  aftions,  and  daily  liv- 
ed under  a  deep  fenfe  of  his  own  unworthinefs,  of  the 
tranfcendent  excellency  of  the  Chriftian  Religion,  of 
the  great  importance  of  a  public  fpirit,  and  the  necef- 
fity  of  exerting  it  in  promoting  the  general  good.  Even 
in  his  delirium  his  mind  difcovered  the  favourite  objedls 
of  his  concern,  the  profperity  of  Christ's   Church, 
and  the  good  of  mankind.     His  bewildered  brain  was 
continually  imagining,  and  his  faultering  tongue  ex- 
preffing  fome  expedient  for  thefe  important  piirpofes. 
Alas !  for  us  that  fo  great  a  light  could  no  longer  con- 
tinue in  this  dark  world ! 


DIVINE 


DIVINE  CONDUCT  Vindicated; 

OR,      THE 

OPERATIONS     OF     GOD 

SHOWN      TO     BE      THE 

OPERATIONS   OF    WISDOM: 

IN     THE     SUBSTANCE     OF 

TWO     DISCOURSES, 

PREACHED       AT 

HABERDASHERS-HALL, 
LONDON,  MARCH  29,  1761. 

OCCASIONED  BY  THE  DECEASE  OF  THE 

Rev.    SAMUEL     D  A  V  I  E  S,     A.  M, 

And  Prefident  of  the  College  of  VaJJau-Hall,  in  Neiv-Jerfsy. 
By    THOMAS     GIBBONS,    D.  D. 


9ive  tribulemur  &  auguftemur,  five  Isetemur,  &  exultemus,  Deus 
laudanjus  ell,  qui  &  in  Tribulationibus  erudit,  &  in  Laetitiaconr 
folatur.  Laus  enim  Dei  a  Corde  &  Ore  Chriftiani  rccedere  non 
debet,  non  ut  laudet  in  profperis,  &  maledicat  in  adverfis :  fed 
quemadmodum  Pfalmus  illefcribit,  femper  Laus  ejus  in  Ore  meo. 
Gaudes,  agnofce  Patrem  blandientem  :  tribularis,  agnofce  Patrem 
emendantem  :  five  blandiatur,  five  emendet,  eum  erudit,  cui  paraC 
HKrediutem. 

AvcusTix.  in  Pfal.  liv. 


E  P  H  E  S.     i.  II. 

— JVho  works  all  things  after  the  counfel  of  his  own  will. 

THE  laft  week  gave  me  the  awful  afiurance  of  the 
fudden  and  unexpected  death  of  that  moft  ex- 
cellent and  amiable  man  and  minifter  of  Jesus  Christ, 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Samuel  Davies,  Prefident  of  the  college 
of  NaJ/irai-Hall,  in  New-Jerfey,  by  a  moft  moving  and 
melting  letter  from  a  gentleman  of  Philadelphia,  an  ac- 
quaintance of  Mr.  Davies,  and  who  well  knew  his 
wortli,  to  a  correfpondent  of  the  gentleman's  here  in 
London. 

A  greater  lofs,  all  things  confidered,  could  not  per- 
haps befai  the  church  of  God  in  the  death  of  a  fingle 
perfon.  The  God  of  nature  had  endowed  Mr.  Davies 
with  extraordinary  talents.  Perhaps  in  fublimity  and 
ftrength  of  genius  there  were  very  few,  if  any,  v/ho 
furpafied  him.  To  the  brighteft  and  richeft  intellecfcs 
Mr.  Davies  had  fuperadded  the  improvements  of  fci- 
ence,  and  a  large  acquaintance  with  books,  and  poflibly, 
had  he  lived,  there  would  have  been  fcarceiy  a  man  in 
our  world  a  more  accomplifhed  Divine,  or  a  more  emi- 
nent Scholar.  His  charader  in  life  was  wonderfully 
accommodated  both  to  his  natural  and  acquired  abilities. 
He  was  Preiident  of  New-Jerfey  college,  in  the  dif- 
charge  of  which  office  there  would  have  been  a  demand 
for  the  exertion  of  his  amazing  talents,  and  the  exhi- 
bition of  all  his  treafures  of  literature  and  knowledge. 
Thus,  as  he  was  a  ftar  of  the  firft  magnitude,  fo  he 
was  placed  in  a  Situation  where  he  might  have  fhone 
without  any  wafte  of  his  diftinguifhed  and  fuperemi- 
nent  glories. 

But  what  crowned  all,  or  advanced  his  diftinftion  as 
a  man  and  a  fcholar  into  the  higheft  value  and  luftre, 
was,  that  his  pious  charafter  appeared  not  at  all  inferior 
to  his  great  intelleds,  and  acquired  accomplifhments. 

Nay, 


xl  The  Operations  of  God  fiown 

Nay,  (let  me  not  be  thought,  for  I  intimately  knew 
him,  to  exceed  the  limits  of  truth  in  the  ardor  of  my 
friendihip)  his  pious  chara6ter  as  much  furpafled  all 
elfe  that  was  remarkable  in  him,  as  the  fparkling  eye 
in  the  countenance  of  a  great  genius  does  all  the  other 
features  of  the  face.  If  Mr.  Davies^s  good  fenfe  and 
"learning  were  the  pi^lures  offilver,  his  graces  and  vir- 
tues were  the  apples  of  gold,  (a) 

Here  let  me  ftay  awhile ;  and,  though  I  fhall  only  give 
you  a  few  outlines  of  his  piety  and  amiable  difpofition, 
yet  let  me  be  allowed  to  prefent  you  with  fuch  a  view 
of  him  as  fhall  not  only  be  fufficient  to  demonftrate  him 
to  be  the  beft  of  men  and  minifters,  but  as  (hall  leave 
room  for  you  to  conclude  that  great  additions  might  be 
made  to  his  charadler  by  perfons  who  had  a  longer  ac- 
quaintance with  him  than  myfelf,  and  the  colleded 
teftimonies  of  the  friends  who  were  favoured  with  his 
intimate  correfpondence. 

He  informed  me  in  one  of  his  letters,  for  I  was 
honoured  with  a  clofe  intimacy  with  him  feveral  years, 
"  That  he  was  blefled  with  a  mother  whom  he  might 
"  account,  without  filial  vanity  or  partiality,  one  of  the 
"  mofl  eminent  faints  he  ever  knew  upon  earth.  And 
"  here,  fays  he,  I  cannot  but  mention  to  my  friend  an 
"  anecdote  known  but  to  fev/,  that  is,  that  I  am  a  fon 
"  of  prayer,  like  my  name-fake  Samuel  the  prophet ; 
"  and  my  mother  called  me  Samuel  becaufe,  fhe  faid,  I 
"  have  afked  him  of  the  Lord,  i  Sam.  i.  20.  This 
"  early  dedication  to  God  has  always  been  a  flrong  in- 
"  ducement  to  me  to  devote  myfelf  to  Him  by  my 
"  own  perfonal  aft ;  and  the  mofl  important  blefhngs 
'*  of  my  life  I  have  looked  upon  as  immediate  anfwers 
"  to  the  prayers  of  a  pious  mother.  But,  alas  !  what 
*-'  a  degenerate  plant  am  I !  How  unworthy  of  fuch  a 
"  parent,  and  fuch  a  birth  !" 

From  the  accounts  Mr.  Davies  gave  of  himfelf  in 
the  converfation  that  pafTed  between  us  when  he  was 
here  in  England,  I  learnt,  as  the  inference  from  related 

fad, 

(a)  Prov.  XXV.  1 1. 


to  he  the  Operations  of  JVifdom.  xli 

fa(5^,  that  he  muft  have  been  very  affiduous  in  his  ftu- 
dies.  When  he  was  about  entering  the  miniftry,  or 
had  not  long  entered  upon  it,  if  I  remember  right,  he 
was  judged  to  be  in  a  deep  and  irrecoverable  confump- 
tion.  Finding  himfelf  upon  the  borders  of  the  grave, 
and  without  any  hopes  of  recovery,  he  determined  to 
fpend  the  little  remains  of  an  almoft  exhaufted  life,  as 
he  apprehended  it,  in  endeavouring  to  advance  his 
mafter's  glory  in  the  good  of  fouls.  Accordingly  he 
removed  from  the  place  where  he  was  to  another  about 
an  hundred  miles  diftance,  that  was  then  in  want  of  a 
minifter.  Here  he  laboured  in  feafon  and  out  of  fea- 
fon  ;  and,  as  he  told  me,  preached  in  the  day,  and  had 
his  hecftic  fever  by  night,  and  that  to  fuch  a  degree  as 
to  be  fometimes  delirious,  and  to  ftand  in  need  of  per- 
ibns  to  fit  up  with  him.  Here  God  gave  him  fome 
glorious  firft-fruits  of  his  miniftry,  for  two  inftances 
of  the  converfion  of  two  gentlemen  he  related  to  mc 
were  very  remarkable,  and  he  had  the  fatisfaftion,  as 
he  informed  me,  to  find  in  the  after-accounts  of  them, 
that  there  was  good  reafon  to  believe  that  they  were 
faints  indeed  :  their  goodnefs  being  by  no  means  "  like 
"  the  grafs  upon  the  houfe  tops,  which  withers  afore 
"  it  grows  up,  and  with  which  the  mower  filleth  not 
"  his  hand,"  Pfal.  cxxix.  6,  7,  but  yielding  the  fruits 
meet  for  repentance  in  an  holy  and  well-ordered  con- 
verfation. 

Afterwards  he  fettled  in  Virginia^  a  colony  where 
profanenefs  and  immorality  called  aloud  for  his  facred 
labours.  His  patience  and  perfeverance,  his  magna- 
nimity and  piety,  together  with  his  powerful  and  evan- 
gelical miniilrations,  were  not  without  fuccefs.  The 
wildernefs  and  the  folitary  places,  in  the  courfe  of  his 
ftay  there,  bloomed  and  blofTomed  before  him.  His 
trad  of  preaching,  if  I  remember  right,  for  fome  time 
was  not  lefs  than  fixty  miles,  and  by  what  I  have  learnt, 
though  not  from  himfelf,  he  had  but  little  of  this 
world's  goods  to  repay  his  zealous  and  indefatigable 
labours;   but  his  reward,  as  he  well  knew,  was  in 

G  Heaven , 


xlii  The  Operations  of  God  Jbown 

Heaven  j  and  he  felt,  I  doubt  not,  the  animated  joy- 
that  every  Negro  flave,  which  under  his  miniftrations 
became  the  Lord's  freeman,  would  furnifh  an  addi- 
tional jewel  to  his  eternal  crown. 

Upon  the  deceafe  of  that  excellent  man  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Jonathan  Edzvai'ds,  Prefident  of  the  college  of 
Najfau-Hall^  in  New-Jerfey,  Mr.  Davies  writes'  me 
word,  that  Mr.  Lockzvood.,  in  New-England,  a  gentle- 
man of  worthy  chara6ler,  was  chofen  to  fill  up  the  va- 
cancy. "  I  have  not  yet  heard,  fays  Mr.  Davies,  whe- 
"  ther  he  has  accepted  the  place.  The  Truftees  were 
"  divided  betv/een  him,  another  gentleman,  and  my- 
"  feif,  but  I  happily  efcaped."  But  fo  it  was  ordered, 
by  Mr.  Lockwood^s  not  accepting  the  invitation,  that 
Mr.  Davies  was  afterwards  eledled  Prefident  of  the 
college  •,  and  what  concern,  and  indeed  what  confter- 
nation  this  choice  gave  him,  his  letters  to  me  amply 
teftify  •,  and  I  could  particularly  relate  to  you  what  views 
he  had  of  things,  and  what  fteps  he  took  to  determine 
what  was  his  duty.  At  laft  he  accepted  the  call  to  his 
important  office  of  prefiding  in  the  college ;  and  tells 
me  in  a  letter,  dated  June  6,  1759,  "  That  the  evi- 
"  dence  of  his  duty  was  fo  plain,  that  even  his  fceptical 
"  mind  was  fatisfied ;  and  that  his  people  faw  the  hand 
"  of  providence  in  it,  and  dared  not  to  oppofe." 

Here  he  was  fettled  for  about  eighteen  months  ;  and 
as  he  could  exercife  his  miniftry  as  well  as  prefide  over 
the  college,  great  things  might  have  been  expeded 
from  that  rare  and  remarkable  union  there  was  in  him 
of  what  was  great  and  good  ■■,  and  with  pleafure  I  have 
received  the  information  from  his  friends  how  well  he 
fupported  and  adorned  his  character,  and  what  high 
expectations  were  formed  as  to  the  benefit  and  bleffing 
he  was  likely  to  prove  to  that  feminary  of  religion  and 
learning.  "  His  whole  foul  (fays  the  letter  that  gives 
"  the  news  of  his  death)  was  engaged  for  the  good  of 
"  the  youth  under  his  care."  And  again,  "  Najfau- 
"  Hall  in  tears,  difconfolate,  and  refufing  to  be  com- 
«  forted." 

But, 


to  h(  the  Operations  of  Wifdom,  xlill 

But,  alas  !  in  the  midft  of  his  days,  (little  more  than 
thirty-fix  years  of  age)  he  was  called  away  from  this 
but  opening  fcene  of  large  and  extraordinary  u^efulnefs 
to  the  inviiible  world,  the  world  of  glory  and  blefled- 
nefs,  never  to  fojourn  in  mortal  clay,  or  to  irradiate 
and  blefs  the  church  militant  more.  He  is  dead,  he 
is  departed — America  in  groans  proclaims  her  inexpref- 
fible  lofs,  and  we  in  Great-Britain  fhare  the  diftrefs, 
and  echo  groan  for  groan. 

Thus  ended  the  days  on  earth  of  this  truly  great  and 
good  man ;  having  in  his  little  circle  of  life  {lied  m.ore 
beams,  and  done  more  fervice  than  many  a  languid  and 
lefs  illuminated  foul,  even  in  a  public  fphere,  in  the 
revolution  of  fixty  or  fourfcore  years. 

Truly  great  and  good  I  may  ftile  him  without  the 
fufpicion  of  flattery,  and  without  the  flight  of  hyper- 
bole. Let  me  call  to  your  remembrance,  as  proofs  of 
what  I  fay,  the  excellent  difcourfes  he  has  delivered  in 
this  pulpil,  and  the  feveral  Sermons  of  his  which  have 
been  publiihed,  fl:rong  in  manly  fenfe,  loaden  with  full 
ideas,  rich  with  evangelical  truth,  and  animated  with 
the  mofl:  facred  fervor  for  the  good  of  fouls.  And  to 
thefe  evidences  of  the  admirable  fpirit  that  dwelt  in 
him,  let  me  add  a  few  paragraphs  from  the  many  let- 
ters with  which,  in  the  courfe  of  about  nine  years  cor- 
refpondence,  he  has  favoured  me. 

Speaking  in  one  of  his  letters  concerning  his  chil- 
dren, he  fays,  "  I  am  folicitous  for  them  when  I  con- 
"  fider  what  a  contagious  world  they  have  entered  into, 
"  and  the  innate  infedlion  of  their  natures.  There  is 
"  nothing  that  can  wound  a  parent's  heart  fo  deep,  as 
"  the  thought  that  he  fhould  bring  up  children  to  dif- 
"  honour  his  God  here,  and  be  miferable  hereafter.  I 
*'  ^^g  your  prayers  for  mine,  and  you  may  expe6l  a  re- 
*'  taliation  in  the  ftme  kind." 

In  another  letter  he  fays,  "  We  have  now  three  fons 
"  and  two  daughters  •,  whofe  young  minds  as  they  open 
"  I  am  endeavouring  to  cultivate  with  my  own  hand, 
"  unv/illing  to  truft  them  to  a  flrangcr ;  and  I  find  the 

"  bufinefs 


xliv  The  Operations  of  God  Jhown 

*'  buiinefs  of  education  much  more  difficult  than  I  ex- 
*'  pected. — Mv  dear  little  creatures  fob  and  drop  a  tear 
*'  now  and  then  under  my  inftru6tions,  but  I  am  not  fo 
"  happy  as  to  fee  them  under  deep  and  lafting  impref- 
*'  fions  of  religion-,  and  this  is  the  greateft  grief  they 
*'  afford  me.  Grace  cannot  be  communicated  by  na- 
"  tural  defcent,  and,  if  it  could,  they  would  receive 
*'  but  little  from  me.  I  earneftly  beg  your  prayers  for 
"  them." 

In  another  letter,  "  I  defire  fericufly  to  devote  to 
"  God  and  my  dear  country,  all  the  labours  of  my 
*'  head,  my  heart,  my  hand,  and  pen  •,  and  if  he  pleafes 
"  to  blefs  any  of  them  I  hope  I  fhall  be  thankful,  and 
*'  wonder  at  his  condefcending  grace. — Oh !  my  dear 
"  brother,  could  we  fpend  and  be  fpent  all  our  lives  in 
*'  painful,  difinterefted,  indefatigable  fervice  for  God 
"  and  the  world,  how  ferene  and  bright  would  it  ren- 
"  der  the  fwift  approaching  eve  of  life  !  I  am  labouring 
*'  to  do  a  little  to  fave  my  country,  and,  which  is  of 
*'  m.uch  more  confequence,  to  fave  fouls — from  death 
"  — from  that  tremendous  kind  of  death,  which  ?i  foul 
"  can  die.  I  have  but  little  fuccefs  of  late,  but  bleffed 
*'  be  God,  it  furpafles  my  expeftation,  and  much  more 
*'  my  defert.  Some  of  my  brethren  labour  to  better 
"  purpofe.  The  pleafure  of  the  Lord  profpers  in  their 
"  hands." 

Another  epiftle  tells  me,  "  As  for  myfelf,  I  am  juft 
"  ftriving  not  to  live  in  vain.  I  entered  the  miniftry 
"  with  fuch  a  fenfe  of  my  uniitnefs  for  it,  that  I  had 
"  no  fanguine  expectations  of  fuccefs.  And  a  conde- 
'*  fccnding  God  (O,  how  condefcending  !)  has  made 
"  me  much  more  ferviceable  than  I  could  hope.  But, 
"  alas !  my  brother,  I  have  but  litde,  very  litde  true 
**  religion.  My  advancements  in  holinefs  are  extrcme- 
*'  ly  fmall :  I  feel  what  I  confefs,  and  am  fure  it  is  true, 
"  and  not  the  rant  of  exceffive  or  affeded  humility. 
'*  It  is  an  eafy  thing  to  make  a  noife  in  the  world,  to 
"  flouriili  and  harangue,  to  dazzle  the  crowds  and  jet 
"•  them  all  agape ^  but  deeply  to  imbibe  the  fpirit  of 

"  chriftianity. 


to  he  the  Operations  of  Wijdom.  xlv 

''  chrlftianity,  to  maintain  a  fecret  walk  with  God,  to 

"  be  holy  as  he  is  holy,  this  is  the  labour,  this  the  work. 

"  I  beg  the  affiftance  of  your  prayers  in  {o  grand  and 

"  important  an  enterprize. — The  difficulty  of  the  mi- 

"  nifterial  work  feems  to  grow  upon  my  hands.     Per- 

*'  haps  once  in  three  or  four  months  I  preach  in  fome 

"  meafure  as  I  could  wifli;  that  is,  I  preach  as  in  the 

"  fight  of  God,  and  as  if  I  were  to  ftep  from  the  pul- 

"  pit  to  the  fupreme  tribunal.     I  feel  my  fubjed:.     1 

"  melt  into  tears,  or  I  fhudder  with  horror,  when  I 

*'  denounce  the  terrors  of  the  Lord.     I  glow,  I  foar 

"  in  facred  extafies,  when   the   love  of  Jesus  is  my 

"  theme,  and,  as  Mr.  Baxter  was  wont  to  exprefs  it, 

*'  in  lines  more  ftriking  to  me  than  all  the  fine  poetry 

"  in  the  world, 

*'  I  preach  as  if  I  ne'er  fhould  preach  again ; 
**  And  as  a  dying  man  to  dying  men. 

*'  But,  alas  !  my  fpirits  foon  flag,  my  devotions  lan- 
"  guifh,  and  my  zeal  cools.  It  is  really  an  afili(5live 
"  thought  that  I  ferve  fo  good  a  Mafter  with  fo  much 
"  inconft:ancy  ;  but  fo  it  is,  and  my  foul  mourns  upon 
"  that  account.'* 

In  another  letter  he  fays,  "  I  am  labouring  to  do  a 
"  little  good  in  the  world  But,  alas  !  I  find  I  am  of 
"  little  ufe  or  importance.  I  have  many  defefts,  but 
"  none  gives  me  fo  much  pain  and  mortification  as  my 
"  flow  progrefs  in  perfonal  holinefs.  This  is  the  grand 
"  qualification  of  the  office  we  fuftain,  as  well  as  for 
"  that  heaven  v/e  hope  for,  and  I  am  fhocked  at  myfelf 
"  when  I  fee  how  little  I  have  of  it." 

In  another  of  his  letters  he  acquaints  me,  "  That  he 
"  indeed  feels  an  union  of  hearts  which  cannot  bear 
"  without  pain  the  intervention  of  the  huge  Atlantic y 
"  nor  even  the  abfence  of  a  week.  But  our  conde- 
"  fcending  Lord,  adds  he,  calls  his  minifliers  Stars^ 
"  and  he  knows  befl;  in  what  part  of  the  firmament  ot 
"  the  church  to  fix  them :  and  (O  the  delightful 
"  thought ! )  they  can  never  be  out  of  the  reach  of  his 
"  beams,  though  they  fliine  in  difl^erent  hemifpheres 

"  with 


xlvi  The  Operations  of  God  Jhown 

*'  with  regard  to  each  other.  This  leads  me,  unde- 
*'  fignedly,  to  a  criticifm  on  Jude  13,  on  which  per- 
"  haps  an  aftronomer  would  be  the  beft  commentator, 
**  Wandering  Jiars^  to  whom  is  referved  the  blacknefs  of 
*'  darknefs  for  ever.  Perhaps  an  aftronomical  critic 
*'  would  obferve  that  falfe  teachers  are  reprefented  as 
*^  planetary  or  wandering  ftars,  that  in  their  eccentrici- 
"  ties  run  out  into  an  eternal  Aphelion  from  the  fun  of 
**  righteoufnefs,  beyond  the  fyftem  which  he  warms, 
**  illuminates,  and  beatifies,  and  are  conftantly  receding 
**  from  the  fountain  of  light,  life,  and  blifs,  and  there- 
"  fore  muft  wander  through  the  blacknefs  of  darknefs 
"  for  ever  ;  a  darknefs  unpierced  by  one  ray  from  the 
*'  great  fun  and  center  of  tlie  moral  world — blacknefs  of 
*^  darknefs^  an  abftrad  predicated  of  an  abftradl.  How 
*'  gloomy  andftrong  the  exprefiion!'* 

Let  me  give  you  another  quotation  from  his  letters. 
**  I  am  very  much  pleafed  and  affedled,  fays  he,  with 
*'  the  fubjeft  of  this  week's  ftudy,  and  next  Lord's 
*'  day's  entertainment,  namely,  A  bruifed  reed  fhall  he 
*'  not  breaks  and  the  fmoking  flax  fhall  he  not  quench. 
"  Such  a  bruifed  reed  at  beft  am  I  :  a  weak,  opprefied, 
"  ufelefs  thing :  ?i.ftridens  flipula  that  can  make  no  a- 
"  greeable  melody  to  entertain  my  great  Shepherd. 
**  Yet  this  bruifed  reed  I  have  reafon  to  hope  he  will  not 
"  break,  but  bind  up  and  fupport.  This  fnattered  pipe 
"  of  ftraw  he  will  not  caft  away,  but  repair  and  tune  to 
"  join  in  the  angelic  concert  on  high.  I  am  at  beft  but 
*''■  fmoking  flax ;  a  dying  fnuff"  in  the  candleftick  of  his 
"  church  i  a  wick  juft  put  out  in  the  lamp  of  his  fanc- 
*'  tuary.  The  flame  of  divine  love,  funk  deep  into 
*'  the  focket  of  a  corrupt  heart,  quivers,  and  breaks, 
**  and  catches,  and  feems  juft  expiring  at  times.  The 
*'  devil  and  the  world  raife  many  ftorms  to  blow  upon 
"  it.  And  yet  th\s  fmoking  flax,  where  the  leaft  fpark 
"  of  that  facred  paflion  ftill  remains  which  renders  it 
"  more  fufceptive  of  his  love,  as  a  candle  juft  put  out 
*'  but  ftill  fmoking,  is  eafily  rekindled. — This  fmoking 
^^  flax  he  will  not  quench,  but  blow  it  to  a  flame,  which 

"  ihall 


to  be  the  Operations  of  JVifdom.  xlvll 

*'  fhall  ihine  brighter  and  brighter  till  it  mingle  with 
"  its  kindred  flames  in  the  pure  element  of  love." 

I  fhall  conclude  my  extrafts  from  his  epiftolary  cor- 
refpondence  with  a  part  of  a  letter,  dated  HanovcYy 
September  12,  1757. 

"  My  ever  dear  Friend^ 

"  I  am  juft  beginning  to  creep  back  from  the  valley 
"  of  the  fhadow  of  death,  to  which  I  made  a  very  near 
"  approach  a  few  days  ago.  I  was  feized  with  a  moft 
"  violent  fever,  which  came  to  a  criiis  in  a  week,  and 
"  now  it  is  much  abated,  though  I  am  ftill  confined  to 
"  my  chamber.  In  this  fhattered  flate  my  trembling 
"  hand  can  write  but  little  to  you,  and  what  I  write 
"  will  be  languid  and  confufed,  like  its  author.  But 
*'  as  the  Virginia  fleet  is  about  to  fail,  and  I  know  not 
*'  when  I  fhall  have  another  opportunity,  I  cannot  avoid 
"  writing  fomething.  I  would  fit  down  on  the  grave's 
"  mouth,  and  talk  awhile  with  my  favourite  friend-, 
"  and  from  my  fituation  you  may  forefee  what  fubjeds 
*'  my  converfation  will  turn  upon — Death — Eternity 
*'  — the  fupreme  Tribunal. 

"  BlefTed  be  my  Mafter's  name,  this  diforder  found 
*'  me  employed  in  his  fervice.  It  feized  me  in  the 
"  pulpit,  like  a  foldier  wounded  in  the  field.  This  has 
*'  been  a  bufy  fummer  with  me.  In  about  two  months 
"  I  rode  about  five  hundred  miles,  and  preached  about 
*'  forty  Sermons.  This  affords  me  fome  pleafurfe  in 
*'  the  review.  But,  alas !  the  mixture  of  fm  and  of 
"  many  namelefs  imperfeftions  that  run  through  and 
"  corrupt  all  my  fervices,  give  me  fhame,  forrow,  and 
"  mortification.  My  fever  made  unufual  ravages  upon 
"  my  underftanding,  and  rendered  me  frequently  deli- 
*'  rious,  and  always  flupid.  But,  when  I  had  any 
"  little  fenfe  of  things,  I  generally  felt  pretty  calm  and 
"  ferene,  and  death,  that  mighty  terror,  was  difarmed. 
*'  Indeed  the  thought  of  leaving  my  dear  family  deflri- 
"  tute,  and  my  flock  fhepherdlefs,  made  me  often  fcart 
"  back  and  cling  to  life  •,  but  in  other  refpeds  death 
*'  appeared  a  kind  of  indifFerency  x.o  me.    Formerly  I 

"  have 


xlviii  The  Operations  of  God  jhow7i 

"  have  wifKed  to  live  longer  that  I  might  be  better 
*'  prepared  for  Heaven,  but  this  confederation  had  but 
*'  very  little  weight  with  me,  and  that  for  a  very  unu- 
"  fual  reafon,  which  was  this — After  long  trial  I  found 
"  this  world  is  a  place  fo  unfriendly  to  the  growth  of 
"  every  thing  Divine  and  Heavenly,  that  I  was  afraid, 
"  if  I  fhould  live  longer,  I  fhould  be  no  better  fitted 
*'  for  Heaven  than  I  am.  Indeed  I  have  hardly  any 
"  hopes  of  ever  making  any  great  attainments  in  holi- 
"  nefs  while  in  this  world,  though  I  fhould  be  doom- 
"  ed  to  flay  in  it  as  long  as  Methufeiah.  I  fee  other 
"  chriftians  indeed  around  me  make  fome  progrefs, 
"  though  they  go  on  with  but  a  fnail-like  motion  :  but 
"  when  I  confider  that  I  fet  out  about  twelve  years  old, 
"  and  what  fanguine  hopes  I  then  had  of  my  future 
"  progrefs,  and  yet  that  I  have  been  almofl  at  a  fland 
"  ever  fince,  I  am  quite  difcouraged. — O  my  good 
"  Mafler,  if  I  may  dare  to  call  thee  io^  I  am  afraid  I 
"  fhall  never  ferve  thee  much  better  on  this  fide  the 
"  region  of  perfecflion.  The  thought  grieves  me :  it 
"  breaks  my  heart,  but  I  can  hardly  hope  better.  But 
"  if  I  have  the  leafl  fpark  of  true  piety  in  my  breafl 
"  I  fhall  not  always  labour  under  this  complaint.  No, 
*'  my  Lord,  I  fhall  yet  ferve  thee — ferve  thee  through 
"  an  immortal  duration — with  the  aftivity,  the  fervor, 
"  the  perfedion  of  the  rapt  feraph  that  adores  and  burns. 
"  I  very  much  fufpeA  this  defponding  view  of  the  mat- 
"  ter  is  wrong,  and  I  do  not  mention  it  with  approba- 
"  tion,  but  only  relate  it  as  an  unufual  reafon  for  my 
"  willingnefs  to  die,  which  I  never  felt  before,  and 
*'  v/hich  I  could  notfupprefs. 

"  In  my  ficknefs  I  found  the  unfpeakable  importance 
*'  of  a  Mediator  in  a  religion  for  finners.  O  !  I  could 
"  have  given  you  the  word  of  a  dying  man  for  it, 
"  that  that  Jesus  whom  you  preach  is  indeed  a  necef- 
"  fary,  and  an  all-fufficient  Saviour.  Indeed  he  is  the 
*'  only  fupport  for  a  departing  foul.  JSJone  hut  Christ, 
"  none  but  Christ.  Had  I  as  many  good  works  as 
*'  Abraham  or  Paid,  I  would  not  have  dared  to  build 


to  be  the  Operations  of  JVifdom.  xlix 

**  my  hopes  upon  fuch  a  quickfand,  but  only  on  this- 
"  firm  eternal  rock. 

"  I  am  riling  up,  my  brother,  with  a  defire  to  re- 
*'  commend  him  better  to  my  fellow-finners,  than  I 
"  have  done.  But,  alas !  I  hardly  hope  to  accomplifh 
"  it.  He  has  done  a  great  deal  more  by  me  already 
."  than  I  ever  expet^ted,  and  infinitely  more  than  I  de- 
"  ferved.  But  he  never  intended  me  fi^r  great  things. 
"  He  has  beings  both  of  my  own,  and  of  fuperior  or- 
"  ders,  that  can  perform  him  more  worthy  fervice. — 
'%0 !  if  I  might  but  untie  the  latchet  of  his  fhoes,  or 
"  draw  water  for  the  fervice  of  hisfanc5luary,  it  is  enough 
"  for  me.  I  am  no  angel,  nor  would  I  murmer  be- 
"  caufe  I  am  not 

"  My  ftrength  fails  me,  and  I  mufl:  give  over — 
"  pray  for  me — write  to  me — love  me  living  and  dy- 
"  ing,  on  earth  and  in  heaven." — 

Judge  you  from  thefe  pafiages,  written  in  the  free- 
dom of  friendfhip,  and  to  one  to  whom  he  fcrupled 
not  to  lay  open  the  fecrets  of  his  bofom,  what  a  lofs 
the  church  has  fuftained,  and  how  much  our  world  is 
impoverifhed  by  the  death  of  Mr.  Davies,  m  the  vigour 
of  his  days,  and  in  the  meridian  of  his  ufefulnefs  ! 

Such  a  blow,  fuch  an  uncommon  and  difirefling  blow 
has  been  given  in  the  death  of  Mr.  Davjes.  And 
now  what  fhall  we  do  ?  to  what  fiiall  we  recur,  or  to 
what  quarter  fhall  we  look  for  help  under  fuch  an  awful 
Providence }  My  advice  is,  that  we  fhould  ferioufly 
and  attentively  turn  our  minds  to  the  pafiage  of  fa- 
cred  writ  which  I  mentioned  at  the  beginning  of  my 
difcourfe  : 

IVho  (that  is,  God)  ivorks  all  things  after  the  cotinfel 
of  his  own  will. 

Without  enquiring  into  the  context,  the  words  may 
be  regarded  as  a  diftind:  propofition.  He  (that  is,  God) 
works.  He  works,  or  he  works  with  energy  and  ir- 
refifl:ible  power,  in  fuch  a  manner  as  none  befides  him 
either  has  ability  or  right  to  work.  He  works  like 
himfelf,  he  v/orks  with  the  omnipotence  that  belongs 

H  to 


i  'The  Operations  of  God  JJjown 

to  him,  and  which  is  his  effential  and  diftinguifhed  at- 
tribute*. Farther,  not  only  does  God  work,  but  he 
works  all  things,  all  things  done  by  him  in  heaven  and 
earth,  in  all  the  provinces  of  his  vaft  empire,  all  things 
in  Nature,  Providence,  and  Grace,  all  things  in  time, 
and  all  things  in  eternity.  And  he  works  all  things 
after  the  counfel  of  his  own  will ;  that  is,  as  he  pleafes. 
His  will  is  the  fource  of  his  adion.  He  gives  an  ac- 
count of  his  matters  to  none.  None  in  the  army  of 
heaven,  or  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth,  have 
any  authority  to  fay  unto  him.  What  doft  thou  .''  He 
depends  upon  none,  but  all,  all  worlds  and  beings  de- 
pend upon  him  •■,  and  therefore  none  are  to  prefume  to 
didate  to  him,  or  diredl  him  what  is  or  what  is  not  to 
be  done  by  him.  Butobferve,  that  though  he  works, 
and  works  all  things,  and  all  this  as  he  pleafes,  yet 
it  is  after  the  counfel  of  his  own  will.  We  are  to  con- 
fider  God  indeed  as  a  great  fovereign,  as  Lord  of  all, 
higher  than  the  higheft,  fupreme  and  unrivalled  in 
perfedion  and  glory,  who  is  not  to  be  called  to  the 
tribunal  of  his  creatures,  or  to  be  questioned  by  them, 
as  to  what  he  pleafes  to  perform.  We  are  not  to  fnatch 
the  fceptre  or  the  balance  from  his  hands.  But  yet  this 
we  may  be  affured  of,  that  whatever  the  Almighty 
God  does  is  done  not  from  a  kind  of  blind  though 
omnipotent  neceflity,  neither  is  it  by  an  unguided  or 
unmeaning  exertion  of  power;  but  that  he  works  all 
things  after  the  counfel,  the  defign,  or  wifdom  of  his 
own  will.-j-    Survey  the  great  Jehovah  as  he  is  indeed 

in 

*  That  the  word  ('EvEpywl©')  here  tranflated  ivho  ^uiorks,  con- 
tains in  it  that  forcible  meaning  which  I  have  here  afcribed  to  it,  we 
may  learn  from  what  the  critics  have  faid  upon  it : — "  Hac  voce  fig- 
"  nificatur  a£lio  conjunfla  cum  efficacia,  &  quidem  fumma,  quae 
"  probiberi  nuUo  modo  poffit.  Ifaiah  xli.  4." — Leighius  in  verb. 
**  At  Grzeca  vox  magis  fonat,  ejus  cujus  vi  &  virtute  fiunt  omnia, 
**  h.  e.  omnia  agentis  ac  moderantis." — Erasmus  in  loc.  Could 
we  admit  of  fuch  an  Englifh  word,  the  original  might  be  rendered 
who  energizes  all  things,  &c. 

f  The  word  {&ov7^.■n)  he  tranflated  counfel,  may,  according  to 
the  learned  Stephens  in  his  Ihefaurus  Gracee  Lingua,  be  rendered 


to  he  the  Operations  of  JVifdom.  li 

in  his  own  nature,  and  in  the  revelation  he  has  made 
of  himfelf  to  us.  If  he  is  fovereign,  and  not  in  the 
leaft  accountable  to  any  one,  yet  he  is  wife,  and  infi- 
nitely wife. 

We  are  not  to  view  God  partially,  but  as  far  as  we 
can  completely,  as  the  fountain  of  all  perfedlion  •,  as 
containing  in  his  nature  an  harmony  of  all  that  is  ex- 
cellent and  glorious.  He  has  a  right  to  do,  and  he 
can  do  whatfoever  he  pleafes  in  all  his  wide-extended 
dominions;  yet  what  he  pleafes  is  always  worthy  of 
himfelf.  He  is  the  aggregate,  the  fyftem  of  excel- 
lence-, and  one  attribute  never  difplays  itfelf  to  the  di- 
minution or  eclipfe  of  another.  As  he  is  greateft,  fo 
he  is  the  beft  of  beings.  Wifdom  dwells  eternally  and 
eflentially  in  the  divine  will-,  and  it  muil  be  obvious, 
that  though  none  can  limit  God,  yet  he,  with  rever- 
ence beitfpoken,  limits  himfelf  by  the  rule  which  in- 
finite wifdom  prefcribes  to  infinite  power.  Plear  the 
account  fcripture  gives  of  him — He  is  the  rock,  his 
works  are  perfect,  for  all  his  ways  are  judgment  -,  ^  God 
of  truth,  and  without  iniquity,  jufi  and  right  is  he.  Deut. 
jcxxii.  4.     He  is  wife  in  heart,   as  well  as  mighty  in 

firength. 

a  decree  or  refolutton,  a  counfel  or  ad-vice,  whether  good  or  bad,  or  a 
confultatton  or  deliberation.  If  we  underftand  the  word  here  of  de- 
cree or  refolution  as  applied  to  God,  we  are  certain  that  fuch  a  decree 
or  refolution  in  Deity  had  its  birth  in  wifdom,  or  in  no  way  deroga- 
tory to  it.  If  we  interpret  the  word  of  counfel  or  advice,  who  fees 
not  that  wifdom  is  taken  into  the  account  ?  it  is  the  counfel,  it  is  the 
advice  of  the  God  of  unerring  wifdom.  But  if  we  take  the  word, 
and  what  forbids  that  we  fhould  not  fo  tranflate  it  ?  as  denoting  con- 
fultation  or  deliberation,  then  we  are  led  in  the  ftrongeft  manner  to 
conclude  that  the  will  of  God  proceeds  upon  wifdom.  Not  that 
there  is  properly  or  ftriftly  any  fuch  thing  as  confultation  or  delibe- 
ration in  the  divine  mind  :  but  we  may  hereby  conceive,  fpeaking  of 
God  after  the  manner  of  men,  that  God  when  he  wills,  wills  in  fuch 
a  wife  manner,  and  upon  fuch  worthy  reafons,  as  if  he  had  firft  con- 
fulted  and  deliberated  with  himfelf  what  was  proper  to  be  done. 
"  Libere  quidem,  quia  ex  voluntate,  fed  tamen  etiam  fapienter  et 
**  juHe  quia  ex  confilio  voluntatis,"  Zanch.  "  But  becaufe  (fays 
"  the  great  Howe)  he  orders  all  things  according  to  the  counfel  of 
"  his  will,  we  muft  conceive  fome  weighty  reafon  did  induce  hereto." 
— Howe's  Redeemer's  Dominion  over  the  ln<uijihle  Worldy  p.  72. 
Folio  Edition,  Vol.  II. 


Hi  The  Operations  of  God  Jhown 

firength.  Job  Ix.  4.  His  judgments  are  a  great  deep. 
Pfal.  xxxvi,  6, — but  they  are  judgments,  the  children 
of  wiiHom  and  counfel  ftill.  If  clouds  and  darknejs  are 
round  about  him,  yet  righteoufnejs  and  judgmem  are  the 
habitation  of  his  throne.  Pfal.  xcvii.  2.  His  works  are 
truth,  and  his  ways  judgment.  Dan.  iv.  37.  The  Al- 
mighty will  not  pervert  judgment.  Job  xxxiv.  12.  His 
ways  are  equal,  Ezek.  xviii.  25,  directed  by  the  ftraight 
unerring  line  of  infinite  wifdom.  Be  this  then  an  efta- 
blifhed  truth  with  us,  that,  whatever  perplexity  and 
darknefs  may  encompafs  the  divine  proceedings,  there 
is  nothing  which  God  does,  that  God  who  works  all 
things  after  the  counfel  of  his  own  will,  but  what  is  juft, 
and  right,  and  good-,  and  that  his  every  aftion  is  no 
other  than  the  birth  of  confummate  counfel,  or  that  the 
plan  of  wifdom  is  laid  as  the  foundation  of  all  his  go- 
vernment. And  particularly  in  fuch  an  event  as  we 
are  now  confidering,  the  removal  of  fuch  an  excellent 
and  worthy  perfon  as  Mr.  Davies  from  our  world,  in 
the  prime  of  life,  and  at  fuch  a  junfture  as  this,  when 
there  are  fo  few  furviving  perfons  of  fuch  ability  and 
charadler,  we  are  to  believe  and  own  that,  as  the  blow 
was  unqueftionably  given  by  God,  it  was  perfedlly 
right,  and  that  not  the  leaft  fhadow  or  fufpicion  of 
blame  or  wrong  is  to  be  afcribed  to  the  moft  high,  moft 
holy,  mofl  wife,  moft  faithful,  and  moft  merciful  God. 
And  even  though  we  could  not  difcern  fo  much  as  one 
reafon,  one  end  of  wifdom  or  goodnefs  anfwered  by 
fuch  an  awful  Providence,  yet  neverthelefs  we  are  not 
to  doubt  but  that  the  All-wife  as  well  as  the  Almighty 
God  has  proceeded  upon  motives,  though  abfolutely 
impenetrable  by  us,  worthy  of  himfclf  •,  that  he  dwells 
in  the  thickeft  darknefs,  and  that  the  glories  of  his 
perfedlions  are  inthroned  at  the  centre,  though  not  a 
ray  of  them  penetrates  and  breaks  through  the  exter- 
nal veil.  But  perhaps,  upon  a  careful  and  fteady  fur- 
vey  of  this  moft  afili6live  Providence,  we  may  attain 
to  fome  difcovery  of  the  purpofes  or  counfels  of  Deity 
m  the  deceafe  of  fuch  an  excellent  perfon  as  Mr.  Davies 

m 


to  be  the  Operations  of  Wifdom.  liii 

in  the  prime  of  his  days,  and  in  the  very  height  of 
his  ufefulnefs.  And,  though  we  are  not  to  call  the 
Lord  of  all  to  our  tribunal,  yet  perhaps  we  may  not 
venture  beyond  our  line,  or  deviate  from  the  path  of 
duty  J  nay,  we  may,  on  the  other  hand,  be  glorifying 
God  as  well  as  compofing  and  comforting  ourfelves, 
if,  with  profound  humility  and  reverence,  we  make  the 
enquiry.  Wherefore  it  is  that  God,  ijoho  works  all  things 
after  the  counfel  of  his  own  will^  is  pleafed  to  call  away 
by  death  the  excellent  of  the  earth  in  the  vigour  of 
life,  and  in  the  meridian  of  their  fervices  for  the  glory 
of  God,  and  the  good  of  his  church  ?  Thefe  hard 
myfteries  may  not  upon  a  diligent  refearch  be  altoge- 
ther inexplicable;  and  thefe  dark  paffages  of  Provi- 
dence upon  a  clofe  furvey  may  apper  illuminated  .with 
evident  and  iiluftrious  beams  of  wifdom  and  love. 
Accordingly  I  fhall  endeavour,  I  truft  with  a  decency 
becoming  a  poor  imperfect  creature  examining  into  the 
ways  of  the  moft  high  and  glorious  God,  to  refolve 
this  problem  of  Providence,  "  Why  the  excellent  of 
the  earth  fhould  be  taken  away  in  the  flower  or  prime 
of  their  age,  and  from  the  moft  enlarged  fpheres  of 
ufefulnefs,  or  what  inftruftions  and  improvements  we 
may  gather  from  fuch  feemingly  unkind  and  undefira- 
ble  difpenfations  ?" 

(i.)  In  the  removal  of  the  excellent  of  the  earth  in 
the  flower  or  prime  of  their  days,  and  in  the  height 
of  their  ufefulnefs,  we  mav  be  taught  the  wonderful 
Majefty  and  independent  glories  of  the  great  God  over 
all  blefled  for  evermore.  "  God  will  have  it  known, 
fays  the  venerable  Mr.  Howe^  on  an  occafion  not  un- 
like that  which  has  given  rife  to  our  difcourfe*,  that 
though  he  ufes  inftruments,  he  needs  them  not.  It  is 
a  piece  of  divine  royalty  and  magnificence,  that  when 
he  hath  prepared  and  poHfhed  fuch  an  utenfil,  fo  as  to 
be  capable  of  great  fervice,  he  can  lay  it  by  without 
lofs." — God  can  maintain  and  carry  on  his  own  caufe, 

and 

*  Howe's  Redeemer's  Dominion  over  the  Invifible  Worldj  on  the 
death  of  John  Houghton,  Efq. 


lir  The  Operations  of  God  jhown 

and  anfwer  his  counfels,  without  the  interpofition  of 
his  creatures,  or,  if  he  pleafes,  he  may  employ  only 
meaner  inftruments,  and  call  home  from  the  vineyard 
the  ablefl:  and  beft  of  his  fervants,  to  fhew  his  church 
he  can  accomplifh  his  pleafure  without  them. 

(2.)  God  may  cut  off  the  excellent  of  the  earth  in 
the  flower  or  prime  of  their  days,  and  in  the  height 
of  their  ufefulnefs,  to  endear  and  magnify  his  power 
and  grace  in  unexpedcedly  railing  up  others  amidft  the 
defponding  fears  and  forrows  of  his  people.  When 
God  takes  away  the  excellent  of  the  earth,  fuch  as 
were  moft  eminently  formed  for  fervice,  in  the  midft 
of  their  days,  the  Church  of  God,  the  friends  of  Zion, 
are  apt  to  fink  into  great  anxiety  and  diftrefs,  and  to  fay 
with  Zion  of  old,  l^he  Lord  has  forfaken  me^  and  my 
God  hath  forgotten  'me-,  Ifa.  xlix.  14.  or  with  Jacob, 
All  the fe  thhtgs  are  againji  me.  Gen.  xlii.  36. — Now  at 
the  very  juncture  when  the  people  ot  God  are  thus  de- 
jedled,  when  their  hearts  are  trembling  for  the  ark  of 
the  Lord,  for  God  then  to  arife  and  to  make  the  time 
of  his  church's  extremity  the  time  of  his  mercy  inraif- 
ing  up  others,  and  pouring  out  his  fpirit  upon  them  in 
a  plentiful  effufion  of  gifts  and  graces,  how  does  he 
hereby  moft  wonderfully  illuftrate  his  power  and  love ! 
His  light,  his  favour  towards  Zion  appears  as  it  were 
with  a  double  brightnefs,  thus  breaking  out  from  a- 
midft  a  night  of  thick  darknefs ;  and  the  people  of 
God,  with  a  moft  lively  and  powerful  fenfe  of  the  di- 
vine goodnefs,  acknowledge  that  God  has  done  great 
things  for  them,  v/hich  they  looked  not  for  -,  and  that 
nothing  but  his  o"v(?n  arm  and  his  own  love  could  have 
helped  them  in  fuch  a  diftrefting  feafon.  Hereby  God 
is  more  eminently  feen  and  glorified,  and  the  work 
appears  to  be  the  Lord's,  and  is  wonderful  in  his  peo- 
ple's eyes. 

(3.)  God  may  take  away  the  excellent  of  the  earth 
in  the  flower  or  prime  of  their  days,  and  in  the  meri- 
dian of  their  ufefulnefs,  to  fhew  us  more  powerfully 
and  affedingly  the  vanity  of  the  prefent  ftate.     God 

fliows 


to  he  the  Operations  of  Wifdom,  Iv 

fhows  us  the  vanity  of  the  prefent  ftate  when  he  takes 
away  perfons  in  old  age,  when  they  have  reached  their 
threefcore  years  and  ten,  to  fourfcore  years ;  for  by  fuch 
inftances  we  are  taught  what  a  mere  hand's  breadth  of 
being  this  hfe  is,  even  in  its  utmoft  extent,  and  how 
foon  our  exiftence  in  this  world  will  be  terminated,  even 
though  it  is  protradled  to  its  fartheft  limit.  But  when 
death,  ufurping,  as  it  were,  by  violence  the  fickle  from 
the  delaying  hands  of  time,  cuts  off  perfons  in  the 
bloom  or  in  the  prime  of  life,  then  is  the  vanity  of  the 
prefent  ftate  preached  to  us  in  the  moft  ftriking,  affed- 
ing  manner.  And  if  with  the  bloom  of  youth  or 
prime  of  manhood,  great  intellectual  abilities,  and  fu- 
perior  acquired  accomplifhments,  diftinguifhed  piety, 
and  moft  enlarged  ufefulnefs  are  cut  off,  then,  in  the 
moft  folemn  awful  accents,  is  the  vanity  of  the  prefent 
ftate  proclaimed  to  us,  and  our  ears  receive  the  lefTon 
not  in  foft  whifpers,  not  in  a  common  voice,  but  in 
peals  of  thunder.  Then  we  hear  the  cry  founding,  as 
it  were,  in  an  overwhelming  and  irrefiftible  energy, 
jill  flejh  is  grafs^  and  all  the  goodlinefs  thereof  is  as  the 
flower  of  the  field:  the  grafs  withers^  the  flower  fades ^ 
becaufe  the  fpirit  of  the  Lord  blows  upon  it.  Ifai.  xl.  6,  7. 
—I  fee  a  man  in  the  vigour  and  ftrength  of  conftitu- 
tion,  a  man  ennobled  beyond  the  common  multitude 
by  a  bright  and  lively  imagination,  by  a  clear  and  pierc- 
ing judgment,  by  a  fuperior,  manly,  and  commanding 
eloquence :  I  fee  a  man  fuperior  to  his  fellow-chriftians 
and  his  fellow-minifters,  by  a  moft  fublime,  fteady, 
rational,  and  uniform  piety,  and  by  an  unextinguiftia- 
ble  zeal,  and  unwearied  labour  for  the  glory  of  God, 
and  the  good  of  fouls  •,  this  man,  thus  richly  furniftied 
and  qualified,  is  taken  away  by  a  fudden  ftroke,  or 
after  but  a  very  few  days  illnefs,  and  un  end  is  put  to 
all  his  luftre  and  benefit  in  our  world.  What  inference 
refults  from  all  this,  but  that  all  is  vanity  here  below  .? 
If  the  beft  we  meet  with  on  earth  is  thus  fugitive  and 
uncertain ;  if  it  may  fo  foon  be  gone,  for  ever  gone 
from  us,  then  verily  every  man  at  his  beft  eft  ate,  and  the 

beft 


Ivi  The  Operations  of  God  Jhowft 

beft  of  men  too,  are  altogether  vanity.  Pfal.  xxxix.  5. — 
The  pearls  and  jewels  of  our  world  may  be  as  foon 
taken  from  it  as  the  dirt  and  drofs.  There  is  mortality, 
there  is  death  in  my  choiceft  enjoyments.  I  fee  that 
the  tall  cedar  may  be  cut  down  as  well  as  the  humble 
plant. — Stars  of  the  firft  mxagnitude,  as  well  as  the 
jfmaller  orbs,  may  quit  the  fkies,  and  vanifh  from  my 
light.  Death  makes  no  diftindion  between  good  and 
bad,  between  the  greateft  and  meaneft,  the  beft  and 
worft.  Now  he  ftrikes  his  dart  at  the  poor  peafant, 
and  now  he  launches  it  at  the  monarch  on  his  throne. 
Now  his  fhaft  fmites  the  chriftian  in  his  private  walks 
of  life,  and  now  his  unerring  ftroke  lays  the  eminent 
genius,  fcholar,  and  minifter  in  the  duft. — All  things^ 
in  this  fenfe,  come  alike  to  all.  Eccl.  ix.  2.  And  is  this 
the  cafe,  do  the  floods  of  death  alike  overwhelm  the 
ftately  and  richly  freighted  fhip  as  the  fmall  bark  or 
boat,  then  why  fhould  I  doat  upon  the  creature  ? — If 
I  build  my  fond  expectations  of  peace  and  comfort 
upon  the  beft  of  men,  I  build  upon  the  fand.  My 
deareft  friendfhips,  and  richeft  joys  on  earth  may  be 
dafhed  in  pieces  in  an  hour,  in  a  moment.  All  on  earth 
is  fhadow,  and  when  I  look  even  to  the  very  beft  it 
can  afford,  I  fee  the  fame  vanity  and  frailty  there,  which 
are  common  to  lower  and  meaner  things. 

(4.)  God  may  cut  off  the  excellent  of  the  earth  in 
the  flower  or  prime  of  their  days,  and  in  the  height  of 
their  ufefulnefs,  to  bring  our  hearts  into  a  nearer  and 
more  intimate  dependence  upon  himfelf  How  pleaf- 
ed  are  we  apt  to  be  with  our  enjoyments  here  below, 
and  efpecially  with  our  pious  friendfliips  and  connex- 
ions ?  And  it  may  be  that  we  are  in  fuch  cafes  the 
lefs  aware  of  danger,  and  the  lefs  upon  our  guard  as 
to  excefs,  as  we  are  certain  that  it  is  no  way  finful,  but 
on  the  other  hand  acceptable  in  the  fight  of  God,  to 
value  the  excellent  of  the  earth,  and  to  be  delighted 
with  their  converfation  and  company.  But  even  here 
we  may  exceed,  and  by  an  inordinate  regard  to  only 
creatures  and  inftruments,  we  may  be  led  aftray  from 

GoD; 


to  he  the  Operations  of  W'ljdom.  Ivii 

God  -,  or  may  not  fb  much  confider,  adore,  and  enjoy 
him  in  them  as  we  ought.  God  has  a  right  to  our 
entire  hearts ;  and,  unlefs  we  look  to  hiir.,  and  own 
him  in  all  our  beft  enjoyments,  we  may  provoke  him 
to  remove  them  from  us ;  and  this  he  m.ay  do,  that  he 
may  bring  us  into  more  intimate  union  with  himfeh', 
and  dependence  upon  him,  that  the  creature  may  be 
fliewn  to  be  nothing  better  than  a  creature,  and  that 
he  may  be  honoured  and  acknowledged  as  all  in  all. 
Peter,  upon  the  mount  ol  transfiguration,  fays,  that  it 
was  good  for  them  to  be  there,  "  and  was  for  making 
three  tabernacles,  one  for  his  Lord,  one  for  Mofes, 
and  one  for  Elias  j  but  it  is  told  us  he  knew  not  what 
he  faid,"  Luke  ix.  ^3,  and  the  bright  vifion  was  foon 
concluded.  God  may  righteoufly,  and  indeed  graci- 
oufly  remove  creatures,  the  beft  creatures  from  us,  if 
they  draw  off  too  much  of  the  current  of  our  affedlions 
from  himfelf.  The  ciftern  breaking  may  endear  to  us 
the  living  fountain.  The  reed  fmking  may  recom- 
mend us  to  the  rock  of  ages.  God  may  take  away 
this  and  the  other  created  excellency  that  our  weaknefs 
has  fet  up  a  veil  between  him  and  our  fouls,  that  we 
may  lie  the  more  open  to  his  immediate  communica- 
tions, and  that  we  may  better  remember  and  pradife 
our  duty,  to  love  the  Lord  our  God  with  all  our  hearty 
with  all  our  foul,  with  all  our  miiid,  and  with  all  our 
firength.     Mark  xii.  30. 

(5.)  As  by  the  death  of  the  excellent  of  the  earth 
in  the  flower  or  prime  of  their  days,  we  are  taught  that 
no  ftrength  of  conftitution,  or  eminency,  or  ufefulnefs 
are  fecurities  from  death,  fo  we  may  hereby  be  excited 
the  more  diligently  to  attend  to  our  work,  and  prepare 
for  our  difmiflion.  If  we  fee  others  taken  away  younger 
and  ftronger  than  ourfelves,  then  what  is  the  inference, 
but  that  we  may  be  cut  off  as  well  as  they,  and  indeed 
more  eafily  than  they  ?  If  we  obferve  others  more 
eminent  and  more  ferviceable  than  ourfelves  called 
away  from  life,  if  their  brighter  fplendors  and  more 
extenfive  benefit  to  mankind  were  no  protection  from 

I  the 


Iviii  The  Operations  of  Gqu  fiown 

the  arreft  of  death,  then  what  may  we  their  inferiora 
expeil  ?  We  have  no  exemption  from  ficknefs,  pain, 
or  fudden  death,  or  death  in  the  midll:  of  our  days, 
any  more  than  others.  If  we  had  the  wifdom  of  So- 
lomon, or  the  zeal  and  ufefulnefs  of  St.  Paul,  ilill,  like 
them,  we  fhould  be  no  better  than  mortal.  Hear  then 
the  voice  of  God  to  you,  fpeaking  from  the  afhes  of 
the  young,  the  ftrong,  the  learned,  the  eminently  pious 
and  ufeful : — Stand  with  your  loins  girded,^  and  your  lamps 
burning.  Give  diligence,  to  make  your  calling  and  election 
furc.  IFoi'k  while  it  is  day  •,  the  night  comes  when  no  man 
can  work,  JVhatfoever  thine  hajid  finds  to  do,  do  it  with 
thy  might.  Do  not  think  that  becaufe  you  are  a  tree, 
even  a  palm,  or  a  vine,  whofe  fruit  cheers  both  God  and 
man.  Judges  ix.  13,  that  therefore  the  order  will  not 
he  iflued  out,  "  Hew  down  the  tree,  cut  oiF  its  bran- 
ches, and  even  pluck  up  its  roots."  Flatter  not  your- 
felf  becaufe  you  are  a  faint  and  fervant  of  God,  or  a 
minifter  of  fome  confiderable  influence  and  importance 
in  the  church,  that  death  can  have  no  power  over  you  ; 
dream  not  of  an  abiding-place  here  •,  you  dwell  in  a  ta- 
bernacle that  may  be  foon  taken  down,  even  though 
it  is  a  tabernacle  which  is  holinefs  to  the  Lord.  At- 
tend then  to  your  work ;  every  day  look  out  for  death, 
and  view  yourfelf  as  at  the  brink  of  the  grave  and  at 
the  door  of  eternity. 

(6.)  By  the  death  of  the  excellent  of  the  earth  in  the 
flower  or  prime  of  their  days,  and  in  the  midft  of  their 
fervices  to  God  and  his  church,  we  may  be  led  to  in- 
quire, whether  there  is  no  anger  exprefled  againfl:  us 
by  their  fudden,  and  in  refpeft  of  the  common  age  of 
man,  untimely  removal. 

As  ( I . )  We  may  do  well  to  confider  whether  there 
may  not  be  fomxC  judgments  impending  over  us.  If 
ambafiadors  are  called  home,  it  may  become  the  na- 
tion, where  they  were,  to  confider  whether  a  rupture 
is  not  likely  to  enfue.  Every  good  man  that  is  taken 
away  from  our  world  is  a  lois  to  it,  a  deduction  from 
its  worth,  in  proportion  to  his  gocdnefs.     There  is  a 

lofs 


to  he  the  Operations  of  Wifdom.  lix 

lofs  of  his  inftrudions,  his  example,  and  his  prayers. 
And  if  the  beft  of  men  are  cut  off,  the  lofs  grows  fo 
much  the  greater,  and  our  apprehenfions  of  the  divine 
refentment  may  very  juftly  be  fo  much  the  more  a- 
wakened.  Doves  fly  home  to  their  windows  at  the 
coming  ftorm.  'The  righteous  ■perijhes^  and  no  man  lays 
it  to  heart  \  and  merciful  men  are  taken  away^  none  con- 
fJering  that  the  righteous  is  taken  away  from  the  evil  to 
come.  Ifaiah  Ivii.  i.  Lot  leaves  Sodom  -,  and  w^hen  he 
is  gone  the  floodgates  of  vengeance  are  fet  open,  and 
the  city  is  turned  into  defl:ru6lion.  Do  not  let  us  think 
lightly  of  the  matter,  that  we  fee  the  befl;  of  men,  men 
that  were  holy  wrefl:lers  with  God,  and  flood  in  the 
breach  to  plead  with  him  to  turn  away  his  wrath,  re- 
moved from  our  world  in  the  midft  of  their  days,  ef- 
pecially  when  fo  few  fervants  and  faints  of  God  remain- 
ed behind,  and  the  world  is  fo  generally  filled  with 
impiety,  and  all  manner  of  wickednefs.  Good  Heze- 
kiah,  and  after  him  good  Jofiah,  mufl:  go  to  their 
graves  before  the  deftrudion  comes  upon  Judah  and 
Jerufalem. 

(2.)  And  as  we  know  not  but  the  deaths  of  the  ex- 
cellent of  the  earth  in  the  midft  of  their  days,  and  in 
the  midft  of  their  ufefdnefs,  may  portend  fome  judg- 
ments from  God  coming  upon  us,  fo  let  us  hence  be 
excited  the  more  earneftly  to  deprecate  them,  and  pray 
for  his  merciful  regards  to  us.  If  the  excellent  of  the 
earth  are  taken  away,  and  taken  away  in  the  midft  of 
their  ufefulnefs,  and  if,  in  fuch  difpenfations  of  Provi- 
dence we  may  hear,  as  it  were,  the  firft  alarms  of  the 
Almighty  anger  from  his  fecret  place  of  thunder,  let 
us  be  the  more  fervent  in  our  fuppiications  that  he 
would  turn  away  his  anger,  and  not  deal  with  us  after 
our  fins,  nor  reward  us  according  to  our  iniquities. 
The  more  gloomy  apprehenfion,  the  more  apparent 
danger,  the  more  fhould  we  be  excited  to  prayer,  live- 
ly and  Importunate  prayer.  Let  us  beg  of  God,  and 
beg  the  more  earneftly,  that  he  would  have  compaflion 
upon  us,  and  that  the  tokens  of  his  judgments  may 

proceed 


Ix  The  Operations  of  God  Jhown 

proceed  no  farther,  and  not  continue  upon  us  in  a  ftorm 
of  reliftlefs  and  overwhelming  vengeance.     And, 

(3.)  As  we  know  not  but  the  deaths  of  the  excel- 
lent of  the  earth,  in  the  midft  of  their  days  and  ufeful- 
nefs,  may  be  the  forerunners  of  fome  judgments  from 
God  at  the  door,  let  us  prepare  to  meet  our  God  if  he 
/hould  come  out  againft  us  in  the  way  of  his  iudgments. 
Do  we  hear  the  found  of  his  anger,  and  are  there  fome 
awful  flaflies,  though  at  prefent  ata  diftance,  thatfeem 
to  figuify  an  approaching  tempcft,  then  let  us  prepare 
to  meet  our  God.  Prepare  to  meet  thy  God,  O  Ifrael. 
Amos  iv.'  12.  Let  us  gird  our  chriftian  armour  clofe 
about  us.  Let  us  ftrengthen  ourfelves  in  our  God, 
and  abound  in  the  exercifes  of  a  dependence  upon  him, 
whofe  grace  only  is  fufficient  for  us^  and  ivhofe  Jlrength 
alone  can  he  perfected  in  our  weaknefs.  2  Cor.  xii.  9.  Let 
us  be  in  readinefs  to  follow  our  God  at  his  call,  either 
through  the  v/aters  or  fires  of  affliftion,  being  as  willing 
magnanimoufly  to  fuffer  for  him  as  we  are  cheerfully 
to  ferve  him,  and  not  being  at  all  fhaken  in  mind  or 
fpirit  by  the  mofl:  grievous  calamities  and  trials  of  life  ; 
having  an  inviolable  connexion  with  and  a  fure  intereft 
in  him  "  who  will  make  all  things  work  together  for 
our  good,"  Rom.  viii.  28,  and  who  has  promifed  us 
a  better  life  and  a  better  world,  after  we  have  fuffered 
a  while,  even  an  inheritance  incorruptible^  undefiled^  and 
that  fades  not  away^  i  Peter  i.  4,  and  an  admiffion 
into  his  palace  and  prefence,  where  there  is  fulnefs  of 
joy^  and  a  place  at  his  right  hand^  where  are  pleafures 
Jor  evermore.  Pfal.  xvi.  1 1 . 

(7.)  By  the  deaths  of  the  excellent  of  the  earth  in 
the  fiov/er  or  prime  of  their  days,  and  in  the  midft  of 
their  ufefulnefs,  let  us  be  excited  to  exert  ourfelves 
more  vigoroufly  and  conftantly  to  glorify  God,  and 
ferve  our  generation,  than  hitherto  v/e  have  done. 
Their  removal  fhews  us  that  we  may  be  removed, 
and  fo  quickens  us  to  our  duty ;  and  their  lofs  like- 
Vv'ife,  their  lofs  to  the  world,  fliould  alfo  excite  us  to 
duty,  iince  though  there  is  as  much  work  as  ever,  yet 

there 


to  he  the  Operations  of  IVifdom,  Ixi 

there  are  fewer  labourers  to  perform  it.  The  more 
the  world  is  impoverifhed,  the  more  let  us  endeavour 
to  enrich  it.  If  an  army  is  reduced  of  its  number, 
let  the  officers,  the  foldiers  that  remain,  not  be  un- 
willing to  go  through  double  fervice,  and  to  exert 
themfelves  with  a  double  adivity  and  vigour. 

(8.)  By  the  removal  of  the  excellent  of  the  earth 
in  the  flower  or  prime  of  their  days,  and  in  the  height 
of  their  ufefulnefs,  we  are  fure  that  we  have  loll  by 
their  departure  from  our  world  one  tie  to  earth,  and 
gained  one  attachment  more  to  heaven.  The  excel- 
lent of  the  earth  are  taken  away,  our  friends,  our 
companions  with  whom  we  took  fweet  counfel.  In 
every  fuch  inftance  one  or  more  bond  to  earth  and 
time  is  confequently  broken.  We  are  in  one  more 
degree  detached  from  the  charms  of  the  creature,  and 
hereby  may  come  nearer,  if  we  rightly  improve  the 
providence,  to  a  deliverance  from  this  world,  that  may 
have  had  too  faft  an  hold  of  our  hopes  and  afrec^tions. 
Had  our  pious  and  excellent  friends  ftayed  behind  us, 
the  thought  of  parting  from  them,  though  but  for  a 
time,  might  have  thrown  a  gloom  upon  our  expiring 
moments,  and  fharpened  the  fting  of  death.  But  they 
are  gone,  and  life  has  loft  by  the  departure  of  each  of 
them  one  of  its  ftrongeft  engagements.  And  as  we 
have  dropt  one  tie  to  earth  by  their  removal,  fo  we  have 
gained  one  more  argument  for  heaven.  Heaven  lets 
down  one  more  attractive,  and  a  moft  fweet  and  power- 
ful attraflive  it  is,  to  draw  up  our  hearts  and  hopes  to 
it ;  heaven,  where  our  immortal  treafure  lies,  and  whe- 
ther our  pious  friends  are  gone.  Let  us  feel  the  at- 
tachment; and  the  more  heaven  enlarges  its  glorious 
and  blefied  company  of  faints  made  perfedr,  the  more 
let  us  look  by  faith  within  the  veil,  and  the  more  ready 
let  us  be  to  follow  our  brethren  that  have  died  in 
Christ  to  the  v/orld  of  glory,  that  we  may  fhare  with 
them  in  their  eternal  bleflednefs,  and  in  the  joys  of  an 
intimate,  perfed,  and  indiftbiuble  friendfhip. 

(9.)  And 


Ixii  The  Operations  of  God  Jhown 

(9.)  And  laftly,  Let  the  removal  of  the  excellent 
of  the  earth,  in  the  flov/eror  prime  of  their  days,  and 
in  the  meridian  of  their  ufefulnefs,  quicken  us  to  im- 
portunate and  inceffant  prayer  that  God  would  pour 
out  his  fpirit  upon  fuch  of  his  fervants  as  remain,  and 
upon  our  rifing  miniftry,  and  rifing  generation.     The 
refidue  of  the  fpirit  is  with  God,  and  it  is  a  refidue 
copious  enough  to  qualify  and  confecrate  fuch  as  fur- 
tive, or  fuch  as  are  entering  into  life,  and  fervice,  with 
as  eminent  gifts  and  as  eminent  graces  as  thofe  who 
are  gone  before  us.     O  for  the  fpirit  of  the  afcending 
Elijahs,  to  reft  upon  our  young  Elifhas  !     I'he  harvejl 
irtily  is  greats  but  the  labourers  are  fev)  ;  let  as  earneft- 
ly  and  inceflantly  befeech  the  Lord  of  the  harvefi  that 
he  would  fend  forth  labourers  into  his  harvefi.  Matt.  ix. 
37,  38.     O  that  God  would  kindle  by  his  Almighty 
breath,  and  a  rich  unction  from  himfelf,  bright  and 
burning  lamps,  to  fill  up  the  places  of  thofe  which  arc 
removed  from  his  fan6luary  below,  to  fhine  in  his  tem- 
ple above  !     Let  the  death  of  fuch  an  eminent  fervant 
of  Christ  as  Mr.  Bavies^  in  the  prime  of  his  age, 
and  in  the  height  of  his  ufefulnefs,  excite  us  to  impor- 
tunate and  abundant  prayer  that  God  would  be  pleaf- 
ed,  in  com.paffion  to  our  world,  to  raife  up  like  inftru- 
nients  of  his  glory,  both  in  our  land  and  wherever  his 
name  is  known,  or  there  are  any  opportunities  to  preach 
his  gofpel !     O  for  the  defcent  of  a  double  portion  of 
the  fpirit  upon  furviving  minifters,  and  upon  all  other 
nurferies  of  religion  and  learning  at  home  and  abroad  ! 
"  Where  is  the  Lord  God  of  Elijah  .f"'     He  lives,  he 
is  ftill  with  us,  though  Elijah  is  gone.    To  him  there- 
fore let  us  look,  to  him  let  us  pray  with  holy  impor- 
tunity and  zeal,  that  the  time,  even  the  fet  time  to 
favour  his  Zion,  may  come.  Let  but  the  Lord  "  give 
the  word,  and  pour  out  of  his  fpirit,  and  great  fhall 
be  the  number  of  thofe  that  publilh  it."  Pfal.  Ixviii.  1 1 . 
"  Let  him  but  clothe  his  pricfls  with  falvation^  and  his 
people  jJj  all  fh  out  aloud  for  joy'''  Pfal.  cxxxii.  16. 

And 


to  be  the  Operations  of  Wifdom.  Ixili 

And  thus  have  I  endeavoured,  from  various  confi- 
derations,  to  refolve  this  problem  in  providence, 
"  Why  the  excellent  of  the  earth  fhould  be  taken 
away  in  the  flov/er  or  prime  of  their  age,  and  from 
the  mod  enlarged  fpheres  of  ufefulnefs,  or  what  in- 
ftruc5lion  and  improvement  we  may  gather  from  fuch 
feemingly  unkind  and  undefirable  difpenfations."  I 
pretend  not  to  aflign  all  the  reafons  of  fuch  a  conduct 
in  Deity,  in  that  "  God,  who  works  ail  things  after 
the  counfel  of  his  own  will,"  but  yet  poffibly  I  may 
have  affigned  fome,  and  fome  fuch  as  may  convince  us 
that  even  thefe  afflidive,  and  perhaps  frequently  fup- 
pofed  impenetrable  proceedings,  are  not  without  evi- 
dent traces  of  the  divine  wifdom,  righteoufnefs,  and 
mercy  upon  them  to  a  duly  obferving  eye,  fo  that  v/e 
may  not  only  as  the  voice  of  faith,  but  as  the  confef- 
lion  of  experience  fay,  I  know ^  O  Lord,  tbrJ  thyjudg- 
7nents  are  rights  and  that  thou  in  faithfulnefs  hafi  ajjilcled 
me.  Pfal.  cxix.  75. 

I  fliall  only  add,  that  v/hether  we  can  or  cannot  in- 
veftigate  the  motives  in  the  counfels  of  a  holy,  wife, 
and  merciful  God,  why  fuch  providences  fhouid  take 
place  as  the  removal  of  the  excellent  of  the  earth  in  the 
flower  or  prime  of  their  days,  and  in  the  height  of 
their  ufefulnefs;  yet  two  things  methinks  are  indif- 
penfible  duties  upon  us  in  fuch  difpenfations.  Congra- 
tulation and  SubmiiTion.  Congratulation  that  our  pi- 
ous friends  are  gone  to  a  better  world  j  for  as  one  fays, 
"  Was  not  felf-love  too  predominant,  and  our  faith  of 
invifible  realities  too  weak,  we  fhouid  rejoice  at  a 
pious  relative  (or  friend's)  admiflion  into  the  fociety 
of  the  bleffed.  We  congratulate  them  on  fome  petty 
advantage,  gained  in  this  low  ftate  of  being,  and  we 
mourn  their  advancement  to  the  higheft  degree  of  ho- 
nour and  felicity,  becaufe  out  of  our  ken  ! — Such  auk- 
ward  and  prepofterous  creatures  are  v/e." 

The  other  duty  is  fubmiffion — fubmiffion  to  the 
high  and  holy,  though  awful  will  of  Heaven.  Pati- 
ence has  its  hour  of  exertion  and  effulgence  in  the  dark- 

nefs 


Ixiv  The  Operations  of  God,  i^c. 

nefs  of  providence,  and  the  feafon  of  our  greatefl 
trials.  "  Father,  not  my  will,  but  thine  be  done,'* 
how  glorious,  how  pleafant  to  hear  from  a  foul  under 
the  preffures  of  the  foreft  afflidions !  I  have  often 
thought  of  the  noble  fpeech  of  the  Archbifhop  of  Cam- 
bray,  who,  when  he  heard  the  news  of  the  Duke  of 
Burgundy's  death,  to  whom  he  had  been  preceptor, 
and  for  whom  he  had  the  moft  tender  affection,  burft 
into  tears,  but  yet  prefently  faid,  "  If  I  knew  that  by 
the  turn  of  a  ftraw  I  could  recover  him  to  life,  and  yet 
at  the  fame  time  was  afiured  that  it  was  contrary  to  the 
will  of  God,  I  would  not  do  it." — O  for  a  complacent 
acquiefcence  in  the  divine  difpofals !  O  for  the  meek 
and  cheerful  furrender  of  our  wills  to  the  will  of  our 
God  !  May  this  be  our  experience  till  faith  is  turned 
into  fight,  and  hope  and  patience  fhall  be  fwallowed  up 
in  boundlefsand  everlafting  fruition  and  joy. 


CHARACTER 


CHARACTER 

OF      THE 

AUTHOR. 


By  the  Rev.  DAVID   BOSTWICK,  m.  a. 

OF      NEW-  YORK. 


"  TT  will  doubtlefs  be  acknoivledged  on  all  hands, 
X  that  a  decent  refpecfl:,  and  a  proportionable  tri- 
bute of  honour  are  due  to  the  memory  of  thole  de- 
ceafed,  whom  the  God  of  Nature  and  Grace  had  fur- 
nifhed  with  every  valuable  endowment,  and  in  his  pro- 
vidence had  advanced  to  an  extenfive  fphere  of  ufeful- 
nefs  while  they  lived:  and  that  this  was  eminently  the 
eafe  of  my  reverend  friend  and  brother,  no  one,  who 
had  the  happinefs  of  his  perfonal  acquaintance,  or 
could  rely  on  the  teftimony  of  univerfal  fame,  will 
pretend  to  difpute. 

"  I  am,  however,  truly  fenfible  that  to  exhibit  a 
juiC  portraiture  of  Prefident  Davies,  and  draw  the  line- 
aments of  his  amiable  chara6ter,  is  a  tafk  too  arduous 
for  me,  and  would  require  a  genius  not  inferior  to  his 
own ;  but  however,  the  fi^iendfliip  with  which  he  was 
pleafed  to  honour  me,  the  efteem  and  veneration  I  had 
for  him  while  he  lived,  with  the  juft  (enk  I  ftill  enter- 
tain of  his  uncommon  worth,  unitedly  demand  the 
prefent  exertion  of  my  feeble  attempts,  efpecirilly  as 
his  death  has  taken  place  in  the  intervening  time  be- 
tween the  preaching  of  the  following  Difcourfe,  and 
its  publication,  v/hich  was  committed  to  my  care. 

"  Mr.  Davies  was  a  man  of  fuch  uncommon  furni- 
ture, both  of  gifts  and  grace,  and  adorned  with  fuch 
an  affemblage  of  amiable  and  uibful  qualities,  and  each 

K  fhining 


Ixvi  CHARACTEP-OF 

fhining  with  fuch  diftlnguifhed  luftre,  that  it  is  triilr 
hard  to  fay  in  which  he  mofi  excelled,  and  equally  hard 
to  mention  one  valuable  or  ufeful  accompli ihment  in 
which  he  did  not  excel.  A  large  and  capacious  under- 
ftanding — a  folid,  unbiafied,  and  well-regulated  judg- 
ment— a  quick  apprehenfion — a  genius  truly  penetrat- 
ing— a  fruitful  invention — an  elegant  tafte, — were  all 
happily  united  in  him,  and  conftituted  a  real  greatnefs 
of  mind,  which  never  failed  to  ftrike  every  obferver 
with  an  agreeable  furprife. 

*'  To  this  extraordiary  natural  capacity  were  added 
the  improvements  of  a  learned  and  polite  education, 
which,  though  in  the  early  years  of  his  ftudy  it  was 
embarrafled  with  many  peculiar  difadvantages,  yet  by 
the  ftrength  of  his  genius,  and  dint  of  indefatigable  ap- 
plication, was  cultivated  to  fuch  a  degree  of  elegance  and 
refinement,  that  attraded  the  notice  and  admiration  of 
all  the  friends  of  fcience  wherever  he  was  known. 

"  And  as  the  powers  of  his  mind  were  enriched 
with  every  valuable  human  accomplilhrn-cnt,  fo  they 
were  eminently  improved  by  the  influence  and  efEcacy 
of  fandifying  grace  -,  in  confequence  of  which  they 
were  all  lincerely  devoted  to  the  fervicc  of  God,  and 
the  good  of  mankind.  In  the  early  flages  of  his  life, 
it  pleafed  a  Sovereign  God  to  call  him  effeflually  from 
his  natural  alienation  to  the  knowledge  and  love  of 
himfelf,  to  take  a  pov»?erful  pofTefTion  of  his  heart,  and 
feize  all  the  faculties  of  his  acflive  and  capacious  foul 
for  his  fervice.  Upon  finifhing  therefore  the  courfe 
of  his  preparatory  jludies,  he  entered  into  the  facred 
employ m.ent  of  the  gofpel-miiniflry,  and  folemnly  de- 
dicated himfelf  with  all  his  fuperior  talents  to  the  work 
of  the  fan6tuary. 

"  In  the  exercife  of  this  facred  ofKce,  his  fervent 
zeal  and  undiilembled  piety,  his  popular  talents  and 
ensao-ins  methods  of  addrefs,  foon  acauired   him  a 

too  ■'  -.■^, 

diflinguifhed  charadler,  and  general  admiration.  Scarce 
v/as  he  known  as  a  public  preacher  but  he  was  fent, 
on  the  earnefl  application  of  the  people,  to  fome  of 

the 


THE     AUTHOR.  Ixv'u 

the  diftant  rettlements  of  Virginia,  where  many  of  the 
inhabitants,  in  refpejfl  of  religion,  were  but  a  fmall 
remove  from  the  darknefs  and  ignorance  of  uncuhi- 
vated  heathenifm,  and  where  the  religion  of  Jefus, 
which  he  endeavoured  to  propagate,  had  to  encounter 
with  all  the  blindnefs,  prejudice,  and  enmity,  that  are 
natural  to  the  heart  of  the  moft  depraved  finner.  Yet 
under  all  apparent  difadvantages,  his  labours  were  at- 
tended with  fuch  remarkable  fuccefs,  that  all  oppofi- 
tion  quitted  the  unequal  combat,  and  gave  way  to  the 
powerful  energy  cf  the  divine  fpirit,  which  was  graci- 
ouHy  pleafed  by  his  miniftry  to  add  many  new  fubjeds 
to  the  fpirituzl  kvgdom  of  our  glorious  Immanuel. 

"  The  work  of  the  miniftry  was  Mr.  Davies's  great 
delight;  and  for  it  he  was  admirably  furnifhed  with 
every  valuable  qualification  of  nature  and  grace.  Di- 
vinity was  a  favourite  fludy,  in  wliich  he  made  a  pro- 
ficiency uncommon  for  his  years,  and  yet  he  generally 
preferred  the  moft  neceftary  and  practical  branches  of 
it  to  the  dark  mazes  of  endlefs  controverfy  and  intri- 
cate difputes  ;  aiming  chiefly  at  the  converfion  of  fm- 
ners,  and  to  change  the  hearts  and  lives  of  men  by  an 
afFeding  reprefentation  of  the  plain,  but  moft  impor- 
tant, interefting  truths  of  the  law  and  the  gofpel. 
His  talent  at  compofition,  efpecially  for  the  pulpit, 
was  equalled  by  few,  and  perhaps  exceeded  by  none. 
His  tafte  v/as  judicious,  elegant,  and  polite,  and  yet 
his  difcourfes  were  plain  and  pungent,  peculiarly  adapt- 
ed to  pierce  the  confcience  and  afFefc  the  heart.  His 
didion  was  furpaftingly  beautiful  and  comprehensive, 
tending  to  make  the  moft  ftupid  hearer  fenfibly  hel, 
as  well  as  clearly  underftand.  Sublimity  and  elegance, 
plainnefs  and  perfpicuity,  and  all  the  force  and  energy 
that  the  language  of  mortals  could  convey,  were  the 
ingredients  of  almoft  every  compofition.  His  manner 
ot  delivery,  as  to  pronunciation,  gefture,  and  modula- 
tion of  voice,  feemed  to  be  aperfe^l  m.odel  of  the  moft 
moving  and  ftriking  oratory. 

"  Whenever  he  iifcended  the  facred  defk,  he  Teemed 

to 


Ixvill  CHARACTEROF 

to  have  not  only  the  attention,  but  all  the  various  paf- 
iions  of  his  auditory  entirely  at  his  command.  And 
as  his  perfonal  appearance  was  auguft  and  venerable, 
yet  benevolent  and  mild,  {o  he  could  fpeak  with  the 
mofl:  commanding  authority,  or  melting  tendernefs, 
according  to  the  variation  of  his  fubjedt.  With  what 
majefty  and  grandeur,  with  what  energy  and  ftriking 
iblemnity,  with  what  powerful  and  almoft  irrefidible 
eloquence  would  he  illuftrate  the  truths,  and  inculcate 
the  duties  of  chriftianity  !  Mount  Sinai  feemed  to 
thunder  from  his  lips,  when  he  denounced  the  tremen- 
dous curfes  of  the  law,  and  founded  the  dreadful  alarm 
to  guilty,  fecure  impenitent  finnei'o:'  The  folemn 
fcenes  of  the  laft  judgment  feemed  to  rife  in  view, 
when  he  arraigned,  tried,  and  convided  felf-deceivers, 
and  formal  hypocrites.  And  how  did  the  balm  of 
Gilead  difbil  from  his  lips,  when  he  exhibited  a  bleed- 
ing dying  Saviour  to  finful  mortals,  as  a  fcvereign  re- 
medy  for  the  wounded  heart,  and  anguifhed  confci- 
encc  !  In  a  word,  whatever  fubjeft  lie  undertook, 
perfuafive  eloquence  dwelt  upon  his  tongue ;  and  his 
audience  was  all  attention.  He  fpoke  as  on  the  bor- 
ders of  eternitv,  and  as  vi.ewing  the  glories  and  ter- 
rors of  an  unfeen  world,  -and  conveyed  t\t  moft  grand 
and  afFeding  ideas  of  theu:  important  i-ealities  j  rea- 
lities which  he  then  firmly  believed,  and  which  he 
now  fees  in  the  clear'eft  light  of  intuitive  demonftration. 

"  The  unufual  luftre  with  which  he  fhone  could  not 
lonp:  be  confined  to  th^it  remotf^  corner  of  the  world, 
but  foon  attradled  the  notice  and  pleafing  admiration 
of  men  of  genius,  learning,  or  piety,  far  and  near-, 
and'  therefore,  on  a  vacancy  at  the  college  of  New- 
Jerfey,  occsfioned  by  the  deceafe  of  two  former  Prefi- 
dents*,  in  a  clofe  and  awful  fucceffion,  he  was  eledted 
to  that  important  office  in  the  year  1759. 

■"  Diftreffing  as  it  v/as  both  to  him  and  his  people, 
united  in  the  ftrongefl  bonds  of  mutual  affedion,  to 

think 

*  The  Rev.  Mr.  Aaron  Burr,  in  1757,  and  the  Rev,  Mr.  Jona- 

Jbin  Edwrtjvls,  who  fuccecded  him,  and  died  the  winter  following. 


THE      AUTHOR.  Ixlx 

think  of  a  feparation,  yet  a  convidion  of  abfolute 
duty,  refulting  from  the  importance  of  the  ftation, 
from  the  various  concurring  providences,  and  laftly, 
from  the  unanimous  advice  of  his  reverend  brethren 
convened  in  fynod,  determined  him  to  accept  the  pro- 
pofal.  Great  and  pleafing  were  the  expecflations  with 
which  we  beheld  him  enter  into  that  exalted  fphere  of 
fervice  ;  yet  I  may  boldly  fay  that  they  were  vaftly  ex- 
ceeded in  every  refpedl  by  the  reputable  manner  in 
which  he  difcharged  the  arduous  truft.  The  progrefs 
he  made  in  all  the  branches  of  fcience,  with  his  capa- 
city and  diligence  to  acquire  new  improvements,  ena- 
bled him  to  condu'fl  fhe  youth  with  great  advantage 
through  the  feveral  ftages  of  ufeful  and  polite  litera- 
ture. And,  while  he  endeavoured  to  improve  the 
minds,  he  was  not  lefs  felicitous  to  reform  the  hearts 
and  lives  of  his  pupils,  to  make  them  good  as  well  as 
great,  and  fit  them  for  both  worlds.  He  knew  that . 
religion  was  the  brightest  ornament  of  the  human, 
and  the  fairefl:  image  of  the  divine  nature,  that  all  true 
benevolence  to  men  muft  have  its  foundation  laid  in 
a  fupreme  love  to  God,  and  that  undiflembled  piety 
in  the  heart  was  the  beft  fecurity  for  ufefulnefs  in  every 
charaftei'  of  life.  It  was  therefore  his  conilant  endea- 
vour to  promote  the  eternal  as  v/ell  as  the  temporal 
good  of  the  youth  intrufted  to  his  tuition,  not  only 
by  his  fervent  preaching  and  exemplary  life,  but  by 
inculcating  at  the  proper  feaibns  the  worth  of  their 
fouls,  and  the  vaft,  the  inexpreffible  importance  of 
their  everlafting  interefts. 

"  In  the  government  of  the  college,  he  had  the  pe- 
culiar art  of  mingling  authority  and  lenity  in  fuch  a 
due  proportion,  as  feldom  or  never  failed  of  the  defir- 
ed  fuccefs.  Hence  he  was  revered  and  loved  by  every 
member  of  thatcolled:ed  family  over  which  he  prelld- 
ed.  His  performances  at  public  anniverfary  com- 
mencements, as  they  never  failed  to  do  honour  to  the 
inftitution,  fo  they  always  furprifed  his  friends  them- 
felves  by  exceeding,  far  exceeding  their  mod  fanguine 

ex- 


IXX  CHARACTER  OF  THE    AUTHOR." 

expccflations.  His  poetical  compofitlons,  and  his  ele- 
gant tafte  for  cultivating  the  Mufes,  gave  additional 
embelli/hments  to  thofe  performances,  and  greatly 
heightened  the  pleafure  of  his  crowded  auditors. 

"  His  acquaintance  vtath  mankind,  his  eafy  and 
polite  behaviour,  his  affability  and  condefcenfion,  his 
modefty  and  candor,  his  engaging  manner  of  addrefs, 
with  his  fprightly  and  entertaining  converfation,  all 
the  genuine  fruits  of  a  moft  benevolent  heart,  render- 
ed him  greatly  beloved  through  the  large  circle  of  his 
acquaintance,  and  as  greatly  admired  even  by  ftrangers, 
whofe  occafional  excurfions  gave  them  only  the  oppor- 
tunity of  a  tranfient  interview. 

"  His  natural  temper,  amiable  in  itfelf,  and  fweet- 
ened  with  all  the  charms  of  divine  grace,  rendered  him 
peculiarly  dear  in  all  the  relative  characters  of  focial  life, 
wliether  as  an  hufband,  a  father,  a  tutor,  or  a  friend. 

"  With  this  excellent  man  at  the  head  of  the  col- 
lege, what  pleafing  profpeds  did  we  form  of  the  ex- 
tenfive  ufefulnefs  of  that  infant  feminary,  both  to  the 
church  and  to  the  commonwealth  !  He  was,  in  fliort, 
all  ws  could  wifh  or  deiire  in  a  man,  to  promote  the 
valuable  interefts  of  learning  and  piety,  and  render  th? 
college  reputable  and  ufeful. 

"  But,  alas!  all  his  ample  furniture  of  gifts  and 
graces,  all  the  amiable  qualities  of  the  mind,  with  the 
advantages  of  the  happieft  conftitution  of  body,  could 
not  fecure  him  from  tlie  fate  of  mortals.  He  is  gone  i 
he  has  quitted  this  inferior  world  amidft  the  unfeigned 
forrows  of  his  family,  his  friends,  the  college,  and 
our  country  :  he  has  taken  his  flight  to  his  native  ikies, 
and  joined  with  kindred  fpirits  in  the  regions  of  a  glo- 
rious immortality,  while  his  remains  are  gathered  to 
thofe  of  his  predeceflbrs,  in  the  dark  and  dreary  repo- 
fitory  of  the  grave. 

"  O  the  unutterable  and  extenfive  lofs  to  a  diftrefled 
family,  to  a  bereaved  college,  to  the  miniftry,  to  the 
church,  to  the  community,  to  the  republic  of  letters, 
arxd  in  fhort  to  all  tlie  valuable  interefts  of  mankind!" 

SERMON 


SERMON     I. 

The  divine  Authority  and  Sufficiency  of  the  Chriftian 
Religion. 


Luke  xvi.  27 — 31.  'Then  he /aid,  I  pray  thee  therefore, 
father,  that  thou  wouldejl  fend  him  to  my  father'' s  houfe^ 
for  I  have  five  brethren.,  that  he  'may  teftify  unto  ihem^ 
leji  they  alfo  come  into  this  place  of  torment.  Abra- 
ham faith  unto  him,  They  have  Mofes  and  the  prophets  % 
lit  them  hear  them.  And  he  f aid.  Nay,  father  Abra- 
ham, but  if  one  went  unto  them  from  the  dead^  they 
Tjill  repent.  And  he  faid  unto  him.  If  they  hear  not 
Mofes  and  the  prophets,  fieither  will  they  be  perfuaded, 
though  one  rofe  from  the  dead. 

WHAT  Micah  faid  fuperftitioufly,  when  he  was 
robbed  of  his  idols,  ye  have  taken  away  my 
gods-,  and  what  have  I  more?  (Judg.  xviii.  24.)  may 
be  truly  fpoken  with  regard  to  the  religion  of  Jefus, 
If  that  be  taken  from  us,  what  have  we  more  ?  If  the 
foundations  be  dejiroyed,  what  fh all  the  righteous  do  F  Pfal. 
xi.  3.  The  generality  of  you  owe  all  your  hopes  of 
a  glorious  immortality  to  this  heaven-born  religion, 
and  you  make  it  the  rule  of  your  faith  and  pradlice ; 
confident  that  in  fo  doing  you  pleafe  God. 

But  what  if  after  all  you  fhould  be  miftaken?  what 
if  the  religion  of  Jefas  fhould  be  an  impofture  ? — I 
know  you  are  ftruck  with  horror  at  the  thought,  and 
perhaps  alarmed  at  my  making  fo  (hocking  a  fuppofi- 
tion.  But  this  fufpicion,  horrid  as  it  is,  has  probably 
been  fuggelled  to  you  at  times  by  infernal  agency ; 
this  fufpicion  may  at  times  liave  rifen  in  your  minds  in 
their  wanton  and  licentious  excurfions,  or  from  the 
falfe  alarms  of  a  melancholy  and  timorous  imagina- 
tion : 


"jl          ^he  divine  Authority  and  Sufficiency       Serm.  i; 

tion :  and  if  this  fufpicion  has  never  been  raifcd  in  you 
by  the  fophiftical  converfation  of  loofe  wits  and  affedl- 
ed  rationalifts,  it  ha=;  been  owing  to  your  happy  retire- 
ment from  the  polite   world,  where  infidehty  makes 
extenfive  conquefts,  under  the  fpecious  name  of  Deifm. 
Since  therefore  you  are  fubjedl  to  an  afiault  from  fuch 
a  fufpicion,  when  you  may  not  be  armed  ready  to  repel 
it,  let  me  this  day  ftart  it  from  its  ambuib,  that  I  may 
try  the  force  of  a  few  arguments  upon  it,  and  furnifb 
you  with  weapons  to  conquer  it- 
Let  me  alfo  tell  you,  that  that  faith  in  the  chriftian 
religion  which  proceeds  from  infufficient  or  bad  prin- 
ciples, is  but  little  better  than  infidelity.     If  you  be- 
lieve the  chriftian  religion  to   be  divine,  becaufe  you 
hardly  care  whether  it  be  true  or  falfe,   being  utterly 
unconcerned  about  religion   in   any  fhape,  and  there- 
fore never  examining  the  matter-, — If  you   believe  it 
true,   becaufe  you  have  been  educated  in  it  \  becaufe 
your  parents  or  minifters  have  told  you  fo ;  or  becaufe 
it  is  the  religion  of  your  country;  if  thefe   are  the 
only  grounds  of  your  faith,  it  is  not  fuch  a  faith  as 
conftitutes  you  true  chriftians  ;  for  upon  the  very  fame 
grounds  you  would  have  been  Mahometans  in  Tur- 
key, difciples  of  Confucius  in  China,  or  worihippers 
of  the  devil  among  the  Indians,  if  it  had  been  your 
unhappy  lot  to  be  born  in  thofe  countries :   for  a  Ma- 
hometan, or  a  Chinefe,  or  an  Indian,  can  alTign  thefe 
grounds  for  his  faith.     Surely,  I  need  not  tell  you, 
that  the  grounds  of  a  miftaken  belief  in  an  impofture, 
are  not  a  fufficient  foundation  for  a  faving  faith  in  a 
divine  revelation.     I  am  afraid  there  are  many  fuch 
implicit  believers  among  us,  who  are  in  the  right  only 
by  chance  :  and  thefe  lie  a  prey  to  every  temptation, 
and  may  be  turned  out  of  the  way  of  truth  by  every 
wind  of  doctrine.     It  is   therefore  neceflary  to  teach 
them  the  grounds  of  the  chriftian  religion,  both   to 
prevent  their  fedudion,  and  to  give  them  a  rational 
and  well-grounded  faith,  inftead  of  that  which  is  only 
blind  and  accidental. 

Nay, 


Sermv  I.         of  the  Chrijiian  Religm.  73. 

Nay,  fuch  of  us  as  have  the  cleareft  convl6rion  of 
this  important  truth,  had  need  to  have  it  inculcated 
upon  us,  that  we  may  be  more  and  more  imprefied 
with  itj  for  the  influence  of  chrillianity  upon  our 
hearts  and  lives  will  be  proportioned  to  the  realizing, 
affeding  perfuafion  of  its  truth  and  certainty  in  our 
underftandings. 

If  I  can  prove  that  chrlftianity  anfwers  all  the  ends 
of  a  religion  from  God  ; — if  I  can  prove  that  it  is  at- 
tended with  fufficient  atteftations  •, — if  I  can  prove  that 
no  fufficient  objedions  can  be  offered  againft  it  i — and 
that  men  have  no  reafon  at  all  to  defire  another ;  but 
that  if  this  proves  ineffectual  for  their  reformation 
and  falvation,  there  is  no  ground  to  hope  that  any 
other  would  prove  fuccefsful : — I  fay,  if  I  can  prove 
thefe  things,  then  the  point  in  debate  is  carried,  and 
we  muft  all  embrace  the  religion  of  Jefus  as  certainly 
true. — Thefe  things  are  afTerted  or  implied  in  my  text, 
with  refpedl  to  the  fcriptures  then  extant,  Mojes  and 
the  prophets. 

My  text  is  a  parabolical  dialogue  between  Abraham 
and  one  of  his  wretched  poflerity,  once  rioting  in  the 
luxuries  of  high  life,  but  now  tormented  in  infernal 
flames. 

We  read  of  his  brethren  in  his  father's  houfe.' 
Among  thefe  probably  his  eflate  was  divided  upon  his 
deceafe;  from  whence  we  may  infer  that  he  had  no 
children ;  for  had  he  had  any,  it  would  have  been 
more  natural  to  reprefent  him  as  folicitous  for  their 
reformation  by  a  meflenger  from  the  dead,  than  for 
that  of  his  brothers.  He  feems  therefore,  like  fome 
of  our  unhappy  modern  rakes,  jufl  to  have  come  to 
his  eftate,  and  to  have  abandoned  himfeif  to  fuch  a 
courfe  of  debaucheries  as  foon  fhattered  his  conftitu- 
tion,  and  brought  him  down  to  the  grave,  and  alas  ! 
to  hell,  in  the  bloom  of  life,  when  they  were  far  from 
his  thoughts.  May  this  be  a  warning  to  all  of  his 
age  and  circumftances ! 

L  Whether, 


74         ^^^  drjing  Authority  and  Sufficiency       Serm.  iV- 

Whether,  from  fome  remaining  afFedlion  to  his  bre- 
thren, or  (which  is  more  likely)  from  a  fear  that  they 
who  had  fhared  with  him  in  fin  would  increafe  his  tor- 
ment, ihould  they  defcend  to  him  in  the  infernal  pri- 
fon,  he  is  folicitous  that  Lazarus  might  be  fent  as  an 
apoftle  from  the  dead  to  warn  them.  His  petition  is 
to  this  purpofe :  "  Since  no  requeft  in  my  own  favour 
can  be  granted  ;  fince  I  cannot  obtain  the  poor  favour 
of  g.  drop  of  water  to  cool  my  flaming  tongue,  let  me 
at  leaft  make  one  requeft  in  behalf  of  thofe  that  are  as 
yet  in  the  land  of  hope,  and  not  beyond  the  reach  of 
mercy.  In  my  father's  houfe  I  have  five  brethren, 
gay,  thoughtlefs,  young  creatures,  who  are  now  riot- 
ing in  thofe  riches  I  was  forced  to  leave,  who  interred 
my  mouldering  corpfe  in  ftate,  little  apprehenfive  of 
the  doom  of  my  immortal  part  •,  who  are  now  tread- 
ing the  fame  enchanting  paths  of  pleafure  I  v/alked  in  ; 
and  will,  unlefs  reclaimed,  foon  defcend,  like  me, 
thoughtlefs  and  unprepared,  into  thefe  doleful  regions : 
I  therefore  pray,  that  thou  v/ouldeft  fend  Lazarus  to 
alarm  them  in  their  wild  career,  with  an  account  of 
my  dreadful  doom,  and  inform  them  of  the  reality 
and  importance  of  everlafting  happinefs  and  mifery, 
that  they  may  reform,  and  fo  avoid  this  place  of  tor- 
ment, whence  I  can  never  efcape." 

Abraham's  anfwer  may  be  thus  paraphrafed  :  "  If 
thy  brothers  perifh,  it  will  not  be  for  want  of  means  ; 
they  enjoy  the  facred  fcriptures  of  the  Old  Teftament, 
written  by  Mofes  and  the  prophets ;  and  thefe  are  fuf- 
ficient  to  inform  them  of  neceflary  truths  to  regulate 
their  pra6Hce,  and  particularly  to  warn  them  of  ever- 
lafting puniftiment !  Let  them  therefore  hear  and  re- 
gard, ftudy  and  obey,  thofe  writings ;  for  they  need 
no  further  means  for  their  falvation. 

To  this  the  wretched  creature  replies,  "  Nay,  fa- 
ther Abraham,  thefe  means  will  not  avail  j  I  enjoyed 
them  all  -,  and  yet  here  I  am,  a  loft  foul  •,  and  I  am 
afraid  they  will  have  as  little  effed  upon  them  as  they 
had  upon  me.  Thefe  means  are  common  and  fami- 
liar, 


Serm.  i.  of  the  Chrijlian  Religion.  y^ 

Jiar,  and  therefore  difregarded.  Butif  one  arcfe  from 
the  dead  j  if  an  apoftle  from  the  invifible  world  was  fent 
to  them,  to  declare  as  an  eye-witnefs  the  great  things 
he  has  feen,  furely  they  would  repent.  The  novelty 
and  terror  of  the  apparition  would  alarm  them.  Their 
fenfes  would  be  ftruck  with  fo  unufual  a  mefienger, 
'and  they  would  be  convinced  of  the  reality  of  eternal 
things ;  therefore  I  muft  renevv^  my  requeft ;  fend 
Lazarus  to  them  in  all  the  pomp  of  heavenly  fplendor ; 
Lazarus  whom  they  once  knew  in  fo  abjed  a  condition, 
and  whom  they  will  therefore  the  more  regard,  v/hen 
they  fee  him  appear  in  all  his  prefent  glory.'* 

Thus  the  miferable  creature  pleads  (and  it  is  na- 
tural for  us  to  wifh  for  other  means,  when  thofe  we 
have  enjoyed  are  ineffeftual,  though  it  ihould  be 
through  our  own  negled) ;  but,  alas  1  he  pleads  in 
vain. 

Abraham  continues  inexorable,  and  gives  a  very 
good  reafon  for  his  denial :  "  If  they  pay  no  regard 
to  the  v/ritings  of  Mofes  and  the  prophets^  the  ftand- 
ing  revelation  God  has  left  in  his  church,  it  would  be 
to  no  purpofe  to  give  them  another  :  they  would  not 
be  perfuadcd  though  one  rofe  from  the  dead  ;  the  fame 
difpofition  that  renders  them  deaf  to  fuch  meffengers 
as  Mofes  and  the  prophets^  would  alfo  render  them  im- 
perfuafible  by  a  mefienger  from  the  dead.  Such  a  one 
might  ftrike  them  with  a  panic,  but  it  would  foon  be 
over,  and  then  they  would  return  to  their  ufual  round 
of  pleafures ;  they  would  prefently  think  the  appari- 
tion was  but  the  creature  of  their  own  imagination, 
or  fome  unaccountable  illufion  of  their  fenfes.  If  one 
arofe  from  the  dead,  he  could  but  declare  the  fame 
things  fubftantially  with  Mofes  and  the  prophets  •,  and 
he  could  not  fpeak  v/ith  greater  authority,  or  give 
better  credentials  than  they;  and  therefore  they  who 
are  not  benefited  by  thefe  ftanding  means,  muft  be 
given  up  as  defperate ;  and  God,  for  very  good  reafons, 
will  not  multiply  new  revelations  to  them." 

This 


^6         The  divine  Authority  and  Sufficiency       Serm.  i; 

This  anfwer  of  Abraham  was  exemplified  when 
another  Lazarus  was  raifed  from  the  dead  in  the  very 
fight  of  the  Jews,  and  Chrift  burft  the  bands  of  death, 
and  gave  them  inconteftible  evidences  of  his  refurrec- 
tion ;  and  yet  after  all  they  were  not  perfuaded,  but 
perfifted  in  invincible  infidelity. 

This  parable  was  fpoken  before  any  part  of  the*. 
Nev/  Teftament  was  written,  and  added  to  the  facred 
canon;  and  if  it  might  be  then  afTerted,  that  the 
ftanding  revelation  of  God's  will  was  fufficient,  and 
that  it  was  needlefs  to  demand  farther,  then  much 
more  may  it  be  afTerted  now,  when  the  canon  of  the 
icriptures  is  completed,  and  we  have  received  fo  much 
additional  light  from  the  New  Teflament.  We  have 
not  only  Mofes  and  the  'prophets^  but  we  have  alfo  Chrifl, 
who  is  a  meflenger  from  the  dead,  and  his  apoflles  -, 
and  therefore,  furely  "•  if  we  do  not  hear  them,  nei- 
ther would  we  be  perfuaded,  though  one  arofe  from 
the  dead."  The  gofpel  is  the  lafl  effort  of  the  grace 
of  God  with  a  guilty  world  •,  and  if  this  has  no  effed 
upon  us,  our  difeafe  is  incurable  that  refufes  to  be 
healed. 

I  cannot  Infifl;  upon  all  tlie  important  truths  con- 
tained in  this  copious  text,  but  only  defign, 

I.  To  fhew  the  fiifiiciency  of  the  flanding  revela- 
tion of  God's  will  in  the  fcriptures,  to  bring  men 
to  repentance :  and, 

II.  To  expofe  the  vanity  and  unreafonablenefs  of 
the  objedions  againfl  this  revelation,  and  of  de- 
manding another. 

I.  I  am  to  fhew  the  fufficiency  of  the  (landing  reve- 
lation in  the  fcriptures  to  bring  men  to  repentance. 

If  the  fcriptures  give  us  fufficient  inftruftions  in 
matters  of  faith,  and  {ufhcient  diredlions  in  matters  of 
pradice, — if  they  are  attended  with  fufficient  eviden- 
ces for  our  faith, — and  produce  fufHcient  excitements 
to  influence  our  pradice,  then  they  contain  a  fufficient 
revelation  ;  for  it  is  for  thefc  purpofes  we  need  a  reve- 
lation, and   a  revelation  that  anfwers  thefe  purpofes 

has 


Serm.  I.  of  the  Chrijiian  Religion.  77 

has  the  dire6te{l  tendency  to  make  us  truly  religious, 
and  bring  us  to  an  happy  immortality.  But  that  the 
revelation  in  the  fcriptures  (particularly  in  the  Nev/ 
Teftament,  which  1  fhall  more  immediately  confider 
as  being  the  immediate  foundation  of  Chriftianity)  is 
fufficient  for  all  thefe  purpofes,  will  be  evident  from  an 
indu6lion  of  particulars. 

I .  The  fcriptures  give  us  fufficient  inftrudions  what 
we  fhould  believe,  or  are  a  fufficient  rule  of  faith. 

Religion  cannot  fubfift  without  right  notions  of 
God  and  divine  things  j  and  entire  ignorance  or  mif- 
takes  in  its  fundamental  articles,  muft  be  deftrudlive  of 
its  nature ;  and  therefore  a  divine  revelation  muft  be 
axolledion  of  rays  of  light,  a  fyftem  of  divine  know- 
ledge ; — and  fuch  we  find  the  chriftian  revelation  to 
be,  as  contained  in  the  facred  writings. 

In  the  fcriptures  we  find  the  faint  difcoveries  of  naJ 
tural  reafon  illuftrated,  its  uncertain  conjedlures  deter- 
mined, and  its  miftakes  correfted  ;  fo  that  chriftianity 
includes  natural  religion  in  the  grcateft  perfedion. 
But  it  does  not  reft  here  ;  it  brings  to  light  things 
which  eye  hath  not  feen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  the  heart 
of  man  conceived,  \  Corinth,  ii.  9, — things,  which  our 
feeble  reafon  could  never  have  difcovered  without  the 
help  of  a  fupernatural  revelation ;  and  which  yet  arc 
of  the  utmoft  importance  for  us  to  know. 

In  the  fcriptures  we  have  the  cleareft  and  moft  ma- 
jeftic  account  of  the  nature  and  perfe<5lions  of  the  Deity, 
and  of  his  being  the  Creator,  Ruler,  and  Benefador 
of  the  univerfe ;  to  whom  therefore  all  reafonable  be- 
ings are  under  infinite  obligations. 

In  the  fcriptures  we  have  an  account  of  the  prefent 
ftate  of  human  nature,  as  degenerate,  and  a  more  ra- 
tional and  eafy  account  of  the  manner  of  its  apoftafy, 
than  could  ever  be  given  by  the  light  of  nature. 

In  the  fcriptures  too  (which  wound  but  to  cure)  we 
have  the  welcome  account  of  a  method  of  recovery 
from  the  juins  of  our  apoftafy,  through  the  mediation 
of  the  Son  of  Godi   there   we  have  the  afiurance 

which 


78  ^he  divine  Authority  and  Sufficiency  Serm.  i. 
which  we  could  find  no  where  elfe,  that  God  is  recon- 
cilable, and  v/illing  to  pardon  penitents  upon  the  ac- 
count of  the  obedience  and  fufferings  of  Chrift.  There 
all  our  anxious  enquiries,  Wherewith  Jh  all  I  come  before 
the  Lord?  or  bow  my f elf  before  the  mojl  high  God?  jhall 
I  come  before  him  with  burnt -offerings  ?  &c.  Micah  vi. 
6,  7,  are  fatisfadorily  anfwered  \  and  there  the  ago- 
nizing confcience  can  obtain  relief,  which  might  have 
fought  it  in  vain  among  all  the  other  religions  in  the 
world. 

In  the  fcriptures  alfo,  eternity  and  the  invifible 
worlds  are  laid  open  to  our  view,  and  "  life  and  im- 
mortality are  brought  to  light  by  the  gofpel ;"  about 
which  the  heathen  fages,  after  all  their  enquiries,  la- 
boured under  uneafy  fufpicions.  There  we  are  aflur- 
ed  of  the  ftate  of  future  rewards  and  punifhments, 
according  to  our  condu(5l  in  this  ftate  of  probation ; 
and  the  nature,  perfedlion,  and  duration  of  the  hap- 
pinefs  and  mifery,  are  defcribed  with  as  much  accu- 
racy as  are  neceflary  to  engage  us  to  feek  the  one  and 
ihun  the  other. 

I  particularize  thefe  dodrines  of  Chriftianity  as  a 
fpecimen,  or  as  fo  many  general  heads,  to  which  many 
others  may  be  reduced  •,  not  intending  a  complete  enu- 
meration, which  would  lead  me  far  beyond  the  bounds 
of  one  fermon;  and  for  which  my  whole  life  is  not 
fufficient.     I  therefore  proceed  to  add, 

2.  The  holy  fcriptures  give  us  complete  diredlions 
in  matters  of  praftice,  or  are  a  fufficient  rule  of  life. 

A  divine  revelation  muft  not  be  calculated  merely 
to  amufe  us,  and  gratify  our  curiofity  with  fublime  and 
refined  notions  and  fpeculations,  but  adapted  to  direcfl 
and  regulafe  our  pradice,  and  render  us  better  as  well 
as  wifer. 

Accordingly,  the  facred  writings  give  us  a  complete 
fyftem  of  pradical  religion  and  morality.  There,  not 
only  all  the  duties  of  natural  religion  are  inculcated, 
l)ut  feveral  important  duties;  as  love  to  our  enemies, 
humility,  iSc.  are  clearly  difcovered  -,  v/hich  the  feeble 

light 


Serm.  r.  of  the  Chrijlian  Religion.  79 

light  ot  reafon  in  the  heathen  moralids  did  either  net 
perceive  at  all,  or  but  very  faindy.  In  fhort,  there 
we  are  informed  of  our  duties  tov/ards  God,  towards 
our  neighbours,  and  towards  ourfelves.  The  fcrip- 
tures  are  full  of  particular  injun6lions  and  directions 
to  particular  duties,  left  we  fhould  not  be  fagacious 
enough  to  infer  them  from  general  rules ;  and  fome- 
times  all  thefe  duties  are  fummed  up  in  fome  fhort 
maxim,  or  general  rule  •,  which  we  may  eafily  remem- 
ber, and  always  carry  about  with  us.  Such  a  noble 
fummary  is.  that  which  Chrift  has  given  us  of  the  whole 
moral  lav/  ;  "  Thou  fhalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with 
all  thy  heart,  &c.  and  thy  neighbour  as  thyfelf."  Or 
that  all-comprehending  rule  of  our  condud;  towards 
one  another,  "  Whatfoever  ye  would  that  m.en  fhould 
do  unto  you,  do  ye  the  fame  unto  them." 

What  recommends  thefe  dodlrinal  inftrudions  and 
praiflical  diredions  is,  that  they  are  plain  and  obvious 
to  common  fenfe.  It  is  as  m.uch  the  concern  of  the  il- 
literate and  vulgar  to  be  religious,  as  of  the  few  en- 
dowed with  an  exalted  and  philofophic  genius;  and 
confequently,  whatever  difficulties  may  be  in  a  revela- 
tion to  cxercife  the  latter,  yet  all  neceflary  matters  of 
faith  and  practice  muft  be  dehvered  in  a  plain  manner, 
level  to  the  capacities  of  the  former ;  otherwife  it 
would  be  no  revelation  at  all  to  them  who  ftand  in 
moft  need  of  it.  Accordingly  the  religion  of  Jefus, 
though  it  has  myfteries  equal  and  infinitely  fuperlor  to 
the  largeft  capacity,  yet  in  its  neceflary  articles  is  in- 
telligible to  all  ranks  who  apply  themfelves  with  pro- 
per diligence  to  the  perufal  of  them  :  and  I  dare  affirm, 
that  a  man  of  common  fenfe,  with  the  affiftance  of  the 
facred  fcriptures,  can  form  a  better  fyftem  of  religion 
and  morality  than  the  wifeft  philofopher,  with  all  his 
abilities  and  learning,  can  form  without  this  help. 
This  I  dare  affirm,  becaufe  it  has  been  put  to  trial, 
and  attefted  by  matter  of  fad  -,  for  whoever  is  acquaint- 
ed with  the  writings  of  the  ancient  heathen  phiiofo- 
phers,  cannot  but  be  convinced,  that,  amidft  all  their 

learning 


So         7'he divine  Authority  and  Sufficiency       Serm.  i." 

learning  and  ftudy,  amidft  all  their  fhining  thoughts 
and  refined  {peculations,  they  had  not  fuchjuft  notions 
of  God  and  his  perfediewis,  of  the  moft  acceptable 
way  of  worfliipping  him,  of  the  duties  of  morality, 
and  of  a  future  ftate,  as  any  common  chriftian  among 
us  has  learned  from  the  fcriptures,  without  any  un- 
common natural  parts,  without  extenfive  learning,  and 
without  fuch  painful  ftudy  and  clofe  application  as  the 
heathen  moralifts  were  forced  to  ufe  to  make  their  lefs 
perfeft  difcoveries.  In  this  fenfe  the  leaft  in  the  king- 
dom of  heaven,  /.  e.  any  common  chriftian^  is  greater 
than  all  the  Socratefes,  the  Platos,  the  Ciceros,  and  the 
Senecas  of  antiquity ;  as  one  that  is  of  a  weak  fight 
can  fee  more  clearly  by  the  help  of  day-light,  than  the 
clcareft  eye  can  without  it. 

And  by  whom  was  this  vaft  treafury  of  knowledge 
laid  up  to  enrich  the  world  ?  by  whom  were  thefc 
matchlefs  writings  compofed,  which  furnifh  us  with  a 
fyftem  of  religion  and  morality  fo  much  more  plain, 
fo  much  more  perfed,  than  all  the  famous  fages  of  an- 
tiquity could  frame  ?  Why,  to  our  aftonifhment,  they 
were  compofed  by  a  company  of  fifhermen,  or  perfons 
not  much  fuperior ;  by  perfons  generally  without  any 
liberal  education  j  perfons  who  had  not  devoted  their 
lives  to  intelledlual  improvement ;  perfons  of  no  extra- 
ordinary natural  parts,  and  who  had  not  travelled,  like 
the  ancient  philofophers,  to  gather  up  fragments  of 
knowledge  in  different  countries,  but  who  lived  in 
Judea,  a  country  where  learning  was  but  little  culti- 
vated, in  comparifon  of  Greece  and  Rome.  Thefe 
were  the  moft  accomplifhed  teachers  of  mankind  that 
ever  appeared  in  the  world.  And  can  this  be  account- 
ed for,  without  acknowledging  their  infpiration  from 
heaven  ?  If  human  reafon  could  have  made  fuch  dif- 
coveries, furely  it  would  have  made  them  by  thofe  in 
whom  it  was  improved  to  the  greateft  perfeftion,  and 
not  by  a  company  of  ignorant  mechanics. 

The  perfons  themfeives  declare  that  they  had  not 
made  i\\^k  difcoveries,  but  were  taught  them  imme- 
diately 


Serm.  i.  of  the  Chrifiian  Religion,  8i 

diately  from  heaven  (which  Indeed  we  muft  have  be- 
lieved, though  they  had  not  told  us  fo). — Now  we 
mnft  believe  their  declaration,  and  own  them  infpired, 
or  fall  into  this  abfurdity.  That  a  company  of  illiterate, 
wicked,  and  daring  Impoflors,  who  were  hardy  enough 
to  pretend  themfelves  commiffioned  and  infpired  from 
God,  have- furnlihed  us  with  an  incomparably  more 
excellent  fyftem  of  religion  and  virtue,  than  could  be 
furnlfhed  by  all  the  wifeft  and  beft  of  the  fons  of  men 
bellde  ;  and  he  that  can  believe  this  may  believe  any 
thing  ;  and  Ihould  never  more  pretend  that  he  cannot 
believe  the  chriftlan  religion  upon  the  account  of  the 
difficulties  that  attend  it. 

I  have  touched  but  fuperficlally  upon  the  fufficiencv 
of  the  fcriptures  as  a  rule  of  faith  and  praftlce^  for  to 
dwell  long  upon  this  would  be  to  fight  without  an  an- 
tagonift.  Our  Infidels  rejed:  the  chriftlan  religion, 
becaufe  they  fuppofe  it  requires  them  to  believe  and 
praftife  too  much,  rather  than  too  little.  Hence  thev 
are  for  lopping  off  a  great  part  of  its  dodlrine  and 
precepts,  as  fuperfluitles,  or  Incumbrances,  and  form- 
ing a  meagre  fkeleton  of  natural  religion.  Their  in- 
telledlual  pride  v/ill  not  ftoop  to  believe  dodtrines  which 
they  cannot  comprehend  •,  and  they  cannot  bear  fuch 
narrow  bounds  as  the  precepts  of  chriftianity  fixes  for 
them  In  their  purfults  of  pleafarc,  and  therefore  they 
would  break  thefe  bands  afunder.  That  which  they 
affe(fl  moft  to  complain  of.  Is  the  want  of  evidence  to 
convince  them  of  the  truth  of  this  ungrateful  religion  \ 
it  will  therefore  be  necefiary  to  prove  more  largely, 
that, 

3.  The  fcriptures  are  attended  with  fufHcIent  evi- 
dences of  their  truth  and  divinity. 

It  is  certain,  that  as  God  can  accept  no  other  v/or- 
fliip  than  rational  from  reafonable  creatures,  he  cannot 
require  us  to  believe  a  revelation  to  be  divine  without 
fufHcIent  reafon;  and  therefore,  v/hen  he  gives  us  a 
revelation,  he  will  atteft  It  with  fuch  evidences  as  will 
be  a  fufficlent  foundation  of  our  belief. 

M  Accordingly, 


82         I'he  divine  Authority  and  Suficiency       Serm.  i,^ 

Accordingly,  the  fcriptures  are  attefted  with  all  the 
evidences,  intrinfic  and  extrinfic,  which  we  can  rea- 
fonably  denre,  and  with  all  the  evidences  the  nature 
of  the  thiiig  will  admit. 

As  for  intrinfiC   evidences,  many  might  be  men- 
tioned ;  but  I  muft  at  prefent  confine  my felf  in  proper 
limits.     I  fnall  refume  the  one  I  have  already  hinted 
at,  namely,  that  the  religion  of  the  Bible  has  the  di- 
recteft  tendency  to  promote  true  piety  and  foHd  virtu© 
in  the  worLd  -,  it  is  fuch  a  religion  as  becomes  a  God 
to  reveali  fuch  a  religion  as  we  might  expedt  from 
him,  in  cafe  he  inftituted  any ;  a  religion  intended  and 
adapted  to  regulate  felf-love,  and,  to  diftufe  the  love 
of  God  and   man  through  the  world,  the  only  gene- 
rous principles  and  vigorous  fprings  of  a  fuitable  con- 
dudl  towards  God,  towards  one  another,  and  towards 
ourfelves ;  a  religion  produdive  of  every  humane,  fo- 
cial,  and  divine  virtue,  and  diredly  calculated  to  banifh 
all  fin  out  of  the  world  •,  to  transform  impiety  into  de- 
votion; injuftice  and  opprelTion  into  equity  and  uni- 
verfal  benevolence-,  and  fenfuality  into  fobriety  :  a  re- 
ligion infinitely  preferable  to  any  that  has  been  con- 
trived by  the  wifeil  and  belt  of  mortals.     And  whence 
do  ye  think  could  this  godlike  religion  proceed  ?  does 
not  its  nature  prove  its  origin  divine  ?  does  it  not  evi- 
dently  bear   the  lineaments  of  its  heavenly  parent  ? 
can  you  once  imagine  that  fuch  a  pure,  fuch  a  holy, 
fuch  a  perfed  fyftem,    could  be  the  contrivance  of 
wicked  infernal   fpirits,    of  felfifh,    artful  priefts,  or 
politicians,  or  of  a  parcel  of  daring  impoftors,  or  wild 
enthufiafls  ?     Could  thefe  contrive  a  religion  fo  con- 
trary to  their  inclination,  fo  deftrudive  of  their  in- 
tereil:,  and  fo  diredly  conducing  to  promote  the  caufe 
they  abhor  ?     If  you  can  believe  this,  you  may  alfo 
believe  that  light  is  the  produd  of  darknefs,  virtue  of 
vice,  good  of  evil,  ^c. — If  fuch  beings  as  thefe  had 
contrived  a  religion,  it  would  have  borne  the  fame  ap- 
pearance in  the  Bible  as  it  does  in  Italy  or  Spain,  where 
•  it  is  degenerated  into  a  mere  trade,  for  the  benefit  of 

tyrannical 


Serm.  I.  of  the  Chrifiian  Religion.  85 

tyrannical  and  voracious  priefts ;  or   it  would  have 
been  fuch  a  religion  as  that  of  Mahomet,  allowing  its 
fubjefts   to  propagate  it  with   the  fword,   that  they 
might  enrich  themielves  with  the  plunder  of  conquer- 
ed nations  ;  and  indulging  them  in  the  gratification  of 
their  lufts,  particularly  in  polygamy,  or  the  unbound- 
ed enjoyment  of  women.     This  religion,  1  fear,  would 
fuit  the  tafte  of  our  licentious  free-thinkers  much  bet- 
ter than  the  holy  religion  of  Jefus.     Or  if  we  fhould 
fuppofe  chriftianity  to  be  the  contrivance  of  vifionary 
enthufiafts,  then  it  would  not  be  that  rational  fyftem 
which  it  is,  but  a  huddle  of  fanatical  reveries  and  ri- 
diculous whims.     If,  then,  it  could  not  be  the  contri- 
vance of  fuch  authors  as  thefe,  to  whom  fhall  we  af- 
cribe  it?  it  muft  have  had  fome  author;  for  it  could 
not  come  into  being  without  a  caufe,  no  more  than 
the  fyftem  of  the  univerfe.     Will  you  then  afcribe  it 
to  good  men?     But  thefe  men  were  either  infpired 
from  heaven,  or  they  were  not;  if  they  were  not,  then 
they  could  not  be  good  men,  but  moft  audacious  liars ; 
for  they  plainly  declared,  they  were  divinely  infpired, 
and  ftood  in  it  to  the  lall ;  which  no  good  man  would 
do,  if  fuch  a  declaration  was  falfe.     If  they  were  in- 
fpired from  heaven,  then  the  point  is  gained  ;  then 
chriftianity  is  a  religion  from  God;  for  to  receive  a  re- 
ligion from  perfons  divinely  infpired,  and  to  receive  it 
from  God,  is  the  fame  thing. 

Another  intrinfic  evidence  is  that  of  prophecy. 

Thofe  future  events  which  are  contingent,  or  which 
fhall  be  accomplifhed  by  caufes  that  do  not  now  exift 
or  appear,  cannot  be  certainly  foreknown  or  foretold 
by  man,  as  we  find  by  our  own  experience.  Such  ob- 
jects fall  within  the  compafs  of  omnifcience  only  ;  and 
therefore  when  fhort-fightedm.ortals  are  enabled  to  pre- 
dict fuch  events  many  years,  and  even  ages  before  they 
happen,  it  is  a  certain  evidence  that  they  are  let  into 
the  fecrets  of  heaven,  and  that  God  communicates  to 
them  a  knowledge  which  cannot  be  acquired  by  the 
mofl  fagacious  human  mind ;  and  this  is  an  evidence 

tha;; 


$4-        ^^^  divine  Authority  and  Sufficiency       Serm.  i. 

that  the  perfons  thus  divinely  taught  are  the  meflengers 
of  God,  to  declare  his  will  to  the  world. 

Now  there  are  numberlefs  inftances  of  fuch  prophe- 
cies in  the  facred  writings.     Thus  a  prophet  foretold 
the  deftrudlion  of  Jeroboam's  altar  by  the  good  Jofiah, 
many  ages  before,   i  Kings  xiii.  2.     Cyrus  was   fore- 
told by  name  as  the  reftorer  of  the  Jews  from  Baby- 
lon, to  re-build  their  temple  and  city,  about  an  hun- 
dred years  before  he  was  born.   JJaiah  xlv.  i,  &c. — 
Several  of  the  prophets  foretold  the  deftru6lion  of  va- 
rious kingdoms  in  a  very  pundual  manner,  as  of  Je- 
rufalem,  Babylon,  Egypt,  Nineveh,  &c.  which  pre- 
didiion  was  exadly  fulfilled.    But  the  moft  remarkable 
prophecies  of  the  Old  Teftament  are  thofe  relating  to 
xkiQ  MefTiah-,  which  are  fo  numerous  and  full,  that 
they  might  i^rvQ  for  materials  of  his  hiftory  ;   they  fix 
the  time  of  his  coming,  viz.  while  the  fceptre  conti- 
nued in  Judah,  Gen.  xlix.  10,  while  the  fecond  temple 
was  yet  {landing,  Hag.  ii.  7,  Mai.  iii.  2,  and  towards 
the  clofe  oi  Daniel's  feventy  weeks  of  years,  i.  e.  four 
hundred  and  ninety  years  from  the  re-building  of  Je- 
rufalem.  Dan.  ix.  24,  &c. — Thefe  prophecies  alfo  de- 
fcribe  the  lineage  of  the  Meffiah,  the  manner  of  his 
conception,  his  life   and  miracles,  his  death,  and  the 
various  circumftances  of  it;  his  burial,  refurredion, 
afcenfion,  and  advancement  to  univerfal  empire,  and 
tho.  fpread  of  the  gofpel  through  the  world.     In  tiie 
New  Teftament  alfo  we  meet  with  fundry  remarkable 
prophecies.     There  Chrift  foretels  his  own  death,  and 
the  manner  of  it,  and  his  triumphant  refurreftion ; 
there,  with  furprifing  accuracy,  he  predicts  the  deftruc- 
tion  of  Jerufalem  by  the  Romans.     We  find  various 
prophecies  alfo  in  the  apoftolic  epiftles,  particularly 
that  of  St.  Paul,  Rom.  xi.  concerning  the  converfion 
of  the  Jews  -,  which,  though  it  be  not  yet  accomplifh- 
ed,  yet  we  fee  a  remarkable  providence  making  way 
for  it,  in  keeping  the  Jews,  who  are  fcattered  over  all 
tht.  earth,  diftinft  from  all  other  nations  for  about  one 
thoufand  {ty^n  hundred  years,  though  thcv  are  hated 

of 


Serm.  I.         of  the  Chrijli an  Religion.  85 

of  all  nations,  and  confequently  under  the  flrongeft 
temptation  to  coalefce  with,  and  lofe  themfelves  among 
themj  and  though  all  other  nations  have  in  a  much 
fliorter  time  mixed  in  fuch  a  manner,  that  none  of 
them  can  now  trace  their  own  original ;  e.  g.  Who 
can  now  diftinguifh  the  pofterity  of  the  ancient  Ro- 
mans from  the  Goths  and  Vandals,  and  others  that 
broke  in  upon  their  empire  and  fettled  among  them  ; 
or  of  the  ancient  Angli  from  the  Danes,  &c.  that 
mingled  with  them  ? 

Thefe  and  many  other  plain  predi(!!lions  are  inter- 
fperfed  through  the  fcriptures,  and  prove  their  original 
to  be  from  the  Father  of  lights,  who  alone  knov/s  all 
his  works  from  the  beginning,  and  who  declares  fuch 
diftant  contingent  futurities  from  ancient  times.  Ifaiah 
xlv.  21. 

I  might,  as  another  Intrinfic  evidence  of  the  truth 
of  chriftianity,  mention  its  glorious  energy  on  the 
minds  of  men,  in  convincing  them  of  fin,  eafing  their 
confciences,  infpiring  them  with  unfpeakable  joy,  fab- 
duinof  their  lufts,  and  transformino;  them  into  its  own 
iikenefs;  which  is  attefted  by  the  daily  experience  of 
every  true  Chriftian.  Every  one  that  believeth  hath 
this  witnefs  in  himndf :  and  this  is  an  evidence  level 
to  the  meaneit  capacity,  which  may  be  foon  loft  in  a 
courfe  of  fublime  reafoning.  But  as  the  Deifts  de- 
clare, alas  !  with  too  much  truth,  that  the  gofpel  hath 
no  fuch  power  upon  them,  it  is  not  to  my  purpofe  to 
infift  upon  it.    I  therefore  proceed  to  mention  fome  of 

The  extrinjic  evidences  of  the  religion  of  Jefus, 
particularly  the  miracles  with  v>'hich  it  was  confirmed, 
and  its  early  propagation  through  the  world. 

Miracles  in  this  cafe  are  events  above  or  contrarj' 
to  the  eft abll (heel  laws  of  nature,  done  with  a  profcf- 
fed  defign  to  atteft  a  revelation  ;  and  as  they  are  obvi- 
ous and  ftriking  to  the  fenfes  of  the  moft  ignorant  and 
unthinking,  they  are  the  moft  popular  and  conviftive 
evidences,  adapted  to  the  capacities  of  the  generahty 
of  mankind,  who  are  incapable  of  a  long  train  of  ar- 
gumentation, 


t6         The  divine  Authority,  and  Sufficiency       Serm.  i. 

gumentation,  or  of  perceiving  the  origin  of  a  religion 
from  its  nature  and  tendency. 

Now  the  religion  of  Jefus  is  abundantly  attefted 
with  this  kind  of  evidence.  The  hiftory  of  the  life 
of  Jefus,  and  his  apoftles,  is  one  continued  feries  of 
miracles.  Sight  was  reftored  to  the  blind,  the  deaf 
were  enabled  to  hear,  the  lame  to  walk,  the  maimed 
furnifhed  with  new-created  limbs,  the  fick  healed,  the 
rage  of  winds  and  feas  controled,  yea,  the  dead  were 
raifed  ;  and  all  this  with  an  air  of  fovereignty,  fuch  as 
became  a  God ;  the  apoftles  were  alfo  endowed  with 
miraculous  powers,  enabled  to  fpeak  with  tongues, 
and  communicate  the  Holy  Spirit  to  others.  Thefe 
miracles  were  done  not  in  a  corner,  but  in  the  moft 
public  places,  before  numerous  fpedlators,  friends  and 
foes ;  and  the  perfons  that  wrought  them  appealed  to 
them  as  the  evidences  of  their  divine  miffion-,  and  the 
account  of  them  is  conveyed  down  to  us  by  the  beft 
medium,  written  tradition,  in  a  hiftoiy  that  bears  all 
the  evidences  of  credibility,  of  which  any  compofure 
of  that  kind  is  capable. 

Another  extrinfic  evidence  of  the  truth  of  chriftia- 
nity  is  its  extenfive  propagation  through  the  world  in 
the  moft  unpromifing  circumftances. 

The  only  religion,  befides  the  Chriftian,  which  has 
had  any  very  confiderable  fpread  in  the  world,  is  that 
of  Mahomet:  but  we  may  eafily  account  for  this, 
without  fappofing  it  divine,  from  its  nature,  as  indulg- 
ing the  lufts  of  men  ■■,  and  efpecially  from  the  manner 
of  its  propagation,  not  by  the  force  of  evidence,  but 
by  the  force  of  arms.  But  the  circumftances  of  the 
propagation  of  chriilianlty  were  quite  otherwife,  whe- 
ther we  coniider  its  contrariety  to  the  corruptions, 
prejudices,  and  interefts  of  men ; — the  eafmefs  of  de- 
teding  it,  had  it  been  falfe  •, — the  violent  oppofition 
it  met  with  from  all  the  powers  of  the  earth  j — the  in- 
ftruments  of  its  propagation  j — or  the  meafures  they 
took  for  that  purpofe. 

Chriflianity 


Serm,  I.  ef  the  Chrijlian  Religion,  ty 

Ghriftlanity  was  dire6lly  contrary  to  the  corruptions, 
prejudices,  and  interefts  of  mankind.  It  grants  no 
indulgence  -to  the  corrupt  propeniions  of  a  degenerate 
world:  but  requires  that  univerfal  holinefe  of  heart 
and  life  which,  as  we  find  by  daily  obfervation,  is  fo 
ungrateful  to  them  ^  and  which  is  the  principal  reafon 
that  the  religion  of  Jefus  meets  with  fo  much  con- 
tempt and  oppofition  in  every  age. 

When  chriftianity  was  firft  propagated,  all  nations 
had  been  educated  in  fome  other  religion;  the  Jews 
were  attached  to  Mofes,  and  the  Gentiles  to  their  va- 
rious fyftems  of  heathenifm  •,  and  were  all  of  them 
very  zealous  for  their  own  religion:  but  chriftianity 
propofed  a  new  fcheme,  and  could  not  take  place  with- 
out antiquating  or  exploding  all  other  religions ;  and 
therefore  it  was  contrary  to  the  inveterate  prejudices 
of  all  mankind ;  and  could  never  have  been  fo  gene- 
rally received,  if  it  had  not  brought  with  it  the  molt 
evident  credentials  •,  efpecially  coniidering  that  fome  of 
its  doftrines  were  fuch  as  feemed  to  the  Jews  a  ftuni- 
bling  block,  and  to  the  Greeks  foolifhnefs  -,  particular- 
ly that  one  of  obfcure  birth  and  low  life,  who  was  pub- 
licly executed  as  a  flave  and  malefador,  fliould  be 
worfhipped  and  honoured  as  God,  upon  pain  of  ever- 
lafting  damnation  !  that  there  ihould  be  a  refurredtion 
of  the  dead  :  the  laft  of  which  was  an  objeft  of  ridicule 
to  all  the  wits  and  philofophers  of  the  heathen  world. 
— Again,  as  fome  religion  or  other  was  eftablifhed  in 
all  nations,  there  were  many,  like  Demetrius  and  his 
craftfmen,  whofe  temporal  livings  andintereft  depended 
upon  the  continuance  of  their  religion  -,  and  if  that 
was  changed,  they  fell  into  poverty  and  difgrace.  There 
was  a  powerful  party  in  every  nation,  and  they  v;ouid 
exert  themfelves  to  prevent  the  fpread  of  an  innovation 
fo  dangerous  to  their  intereft,  v/hich  we  find  by  all 
hiftories  of  thofe  times  they  adually  did.  And  yet 
the  defpifed  religion  of  Jefus  triumphed  over  all  their 
oppofltion,  and  maintained  its  credit  in  fpite  of  all  their 

endeavours 


SS         The  divine  Authority  and  Sufficiency       Serm.  ll 

endeavours  to  deteft  it  as  an  impofture  ;  and  this  proves 
it  was  not  an  impofture  ;  for, 

In  the  next  place,  it  was  eafy  to  have  detected  chrifti- 
anity  as  an  impofture,  nay,  it  was  impoffible  it  fhould 
not  have  been  detedled,  if  it  had  been  fuch  ;  for  the 
great  fades  upon  which  the  evidence  of  it  refted,  were 
faid  to  be  obvious  and  public,  done  before  thoufands, 
and  in  all  countries ;  for  wherever  the  apoftles  travelled, 
they  carried  their  miraculous  powers  along  with  them. 
Thoufands  muft  know  whether  Chrift  had  fed  many 
thoufands  v/ith  provifions  only  fufficient  for  a  few, 
whether  Lazarus  was  raifed  from  the  dead  before  the 
admiring  multitude  •,  whether  the  apoftles  fpoke  with 
tongues  to  thofe  various  nations  among  v/hom  they 
endeavoured  to  propagate  their  religion  (as  indeed  they 
muft  have  done,  otherwife  they  would  not  have  been 
underftood.)  Thefe  things,  and  many  others,  upon 
which  the  evidence  of  chriftianity  depends,  were  pub- 
lic in  their  own  nature-,  and  therefore,  if  they  had 
not  been  matters  of  fa6l-,  the  cheat  muft  have  been 
unavoidably  detected,  efpecially  when  fo  many  were 
concerned  to  detecfl  it. 

Farther  r  chriftianity  met  with  the  moft  ftrenuous 
oppofition  from  all  the  powers  of  the  earth.  The 
Jewifh  rulers  and  moft  of  the  populace  were  implacable 
enemies  ;  and  as  they  lived  on  the  fpot  where  its 
miraculous  atteftations  were  faid  to  be  given,  it  was  in 
their  power  to  crufti  it  in  its  birth,  and  never  have 
fufFered  it  to  fpread  farther,  had  it  not  been  attended 
with  invincible  evidence.  All  the  power  of  the  Ro- 
man empire  was  alfo  exerted  for  its  extirpation ;  and 
its  propagators  and  difciples  could  exped:  no  profit  or 
pleafure  by  it,  but  were  aftured  from  the  pofture  of 
affairs,  from  daily  experience,  and  from  the  predic- 
tions of  their  mafter,  that  they  ftiould  meet  with 
fhame,  perfecution,  and  death  itfelf  in  its  moft  tre- 
mendous ftiapes  ;  and  in  the  next  world  they  could  ex- 
pe<51:  nothing,  even  according  to  their  own  dodrine, 
but  everlafting  damnation,  if  they  were  wilful  impof- 

tors : 


Serm.  I.  of  the  Chrlfiian  Religion.  89 

tors :  and  yet,  in  fplte  of  all  thefe  difcouragements, 
they  courageoipfly  perfifted  in  their  teftimony  to  the 
hfl,  though  they  might  have  fecured  their  lives,  and 
helped  their  fortunes  (as  Judas  did)  by  retracing  it-, 
nay,  their  teftimony  prevailed  in  defiance  of  all  oppo- 
fition  -,  multitudes  in  all  nations  then  known  embraced 
the  faith ;  though  they  expelled  tortures  and  death 
for  it  i  and  in  a  few  centuries,  the  vaft  and  mighty 
Roman  empire  fubmitted  to  the  religion  of  a  crucified 
Jefus.  And  who  were  thofe  mighty  heroes  that  thus 
triumphed  over  the  world  ?    Why,  to  our  furprize. 

The  inftruments  of  the  propagation  of  Chriftianity 
were  a  company  of  poor  mechanics,  publicans,  tent- 
makers,  and  fifhermen,  froni,  the  defpifed  nation  of 
the  Jews !  And  by  what  llrange  powers  or  arts  did 
they  make  thefe  extenfive  conquefts  ? 

The  meafures  they  took  were  a  plain  declaration  of 
their  religion  •,  and  they  wrought  miracles  for  its  con- 
firmation. They  did  not  ufe  the  power  of  the  fword, 
no  fecuiar  terrors,  or  bribery;  they  were  without 
learning,  without  the  arts  of  reafoning  and  perfuafion  \ 
and  without  all  the  ufual  artifice  of  feducers  £0  gain 
credit  to  their  impofturc. 

Here  I  cannot  but  take  particular  notice  of  that 
matchlefs  fimplicity  that  appears  in  the  hiftory  of 
Chi'Ift  and  his  apoftles.  The  evangeilfts  write  in  that 
artlefs,  calm,  and  unguarded  manner,  which  is  natu- 
ral to  perfons  confident  of  the  undeniable  truth  of 
what  they  aflert  -,  they  do  not  write  with  that  fcrupu- 
lous  caution  which  would  argue  any  fear  that  they 
might  be  confuted.  They  fimply  relate  the  naked 
fafis,  and  leave  them  to  ftand  upon  their  own  evi- 
dence. They  relate  the  moft  amazing,  the  mod  mov- 
ing things,  with  the  moft  cool  ferenity,  without  any 
paffionate  exclamations  and  warm  refledions.  For  ex- 
ample, they  relate  the  moft  aftoniftiing  miracles,  as 
the  refurredion  of  Lazarus,  in  the  moft  fimple,  and, 
as  it  were,  carelefs  manner,  without  breaking  out  and 
celebrating  the  divine  power  of  Chrift.  In  the  fame 
.    N  manner 


9©         The  divine  Authority  and  Sufficiency       Serm.  r ./ 

manner  they  relate  the  moft  tragical  circumftances  of 
his  condemnation  and  deatli,  calmly  mentioning  mat- 
ter of  fad,  without  any  invedtives  againft  the  Jews, 
without  any  high  eulogies  upon  Chrift's  innocence, 
without  any  rapturous  celebrations  of  his  grace  in  fuf- 
fering  all  thefe  things  for  fmners,  and  v/ithout  any 
tender  lamentations  over  their  deceafed  mafter.  It  is 
impoffible  for  a  heart  fo  deeply  imprefied  with  fuch 
things,  as  theirs  undoubtedly  were,  to  retain  this  dif- 
pailionate  ferenity,  unlefs  laid  under  fupernatural  re- 
ftraints ;  and  there  appears  very  good  reafons  for  this 
reftraint  upon  them,  viz.  that  the  gofpel-hiftory  might 
carry  intriniic  evidences  of  its  fimplicity  and  artlefs 
impartiality ;  and  that  it  might  appear  adapted  to 
convince  the  judgments  of  menj  and  not  merely  to 
raife  their  paffions.  In  this  refpe<5c,  the  gofpel-hiftory 
is  diftinguilhed  from  all  hiftories  in  the  Vv'orld:  and 
can  we  think  fo  plain,  fo  undifguifed,  fo  artlefs  a  com- 
pofure,  the  contrivance  of  defigning  impoftors  ?— < 
Would  not  a  confcioufnefs  that  they  might  be  deted:- 
ed  keep  them  more  upon  their  guard,  and  make  them 
more  ready  to  anticipate  and  confine  objedions,  and 
take  every  artifice  to  recommend  their  caufe,  and  pre- 
pofTefs  the  reader  in  its  favour  ? 

It  only  remains  under  this  head,  that  I  fhould 

(4.)  Shew  that  the  religion  of  Jefus  propofes  fuffi- 
cient  excitements  to  influence  our  faith  and  pradlice. 

To  enforce  a  fyftem  of  dodrines  and  precepts,  two 
things  are  efpecially  necefiary, — that  they  fhould  be 
made  duty  by  competent  authority, — and  matters  of 
intereft  by  a  fandion  of  rewards  and  punifhments.  To 
which  I  may  add,  that  the  excitements  are  ftill  fl:ron~ 
ger,  when  we  are  laid  under  the  gentle  obligations  of 
gratitude.  In  all  thefe  refpeds  the  chriftian  religion 
has  the  mod  powerful  enforcements. 

The  authority  upon  which  we  are  required  to  re- 
ceive the  dodrines,  and  obferve  the  precepts  of  chril- 
tianity,  is  no  lefs  than  the  authority  of  God,  the  fu- 
preme  Lawgiver  and  infallible  Teacher ;  whofe  wif- 

dora 


Serm.  I."         cf  the  Chrifiian  Religion:  91 

dom  to  prefcribe  and  right  to  command,  are  indifputa- 
ble;  and  we  may  fafely  fubmit  our  underftandings  to 
his  inftruftions,  however  myfterious,  and  our  wills  to 
his  injundions,  hov/ever  difficult  they  may  feem  to  us. 
This  gives  the  religion  of  Jefus  a  binding  authority 
upon  the  confciences  of  men;  which  is  abfolutejy  ne- 
celTary  to  bring  piety  and  virtue  into  pra6uice  in  tlie 
world  ;  for  if  men  are  left  at  liberty,  they  v/ill  follow 
their  own  inclinations,  however  wicked  and  pernicious. 
And  in  this  refpedt  chriftianity  bears  a  glorious  pre-- 
ference  to  all  the  fyflems  of  morality  compofed  by  the 
heathen  philofopliers ;  for  though  there  were  many 
good  things  in  them,  yet  who  gave  authority  to  So- 
crates, Plato,  or  Seneca,  to  aflume  the  province  of 
lawgivers  and  diftators  to  mankind,  and  prefcribe  to 
their  confciences  ? — All  they  could  do  was  to  teach,  to 
advife,  to  perfuade,  to  reafon  :  but  mankind  were  at 
liberty,  after  all,  whether  to  take  their  advice  or  not. 
And  this  (hews  the  neceffity  of  fu  per  natural  revelation, 
not  merely  to  make  known  things  beyond  human  ap- 
prehenfion,  but  to  enforce  with  proper  authority  fuch 
duties  as  might  be  difcovered  by  man;  fince  without 
it  they  would  not  have  the  binding  force  of  a  law. 

As  to  the  fandion  of  rewards  and  puniilirnents  in 
chriftianity,  they  are  fuch  as  became  a  God  to  annex 
to  his  majeftic  law,  fuch  as  are  agreeable  to  creatures 
formed  for  immortality,  and  fuch  as  would  have  the 
moft  eifedual  tendency  to  encourage  obedience,  and 
prevent  fin ;  they  are  no  lefs  than  the  moft  perfedt 
happinefs  and  mifery  which  human  nature  is  capable 
of,  and  that  through  an  endlefs  duration.  If  thefe 
are  not  fufficient  to  allure  rational  creatures  to  obedi- 
ence, then  no  coniiderations  that  can  be  propofed  can 
have  any  eifecl.  Thefe  tend  to  alarm  our  hopes  and 
our  fears,  the  moft  vigorous  fprings  of  human  a6li- 
vity ;  and  if  thefe  have  no  eiTed  upon  us,  nothing 
that  God  can  reveal,  or  our  minds  conceive,  will  have 
any  effeft.  God,  by  adding  the  greateft  fancflions  pof- 
iible  to  his  law,  has  taken  liie  beft  poftii)le  precautions 

to 


^i  Tioe  dhins  Autbcrity  and  Suffciency       Senil.  t. 

to  prevent  difobedience  -,  and  fince  even  thefe  do  not 
j-eftrain  men  from  it,  we  are  fure  that  lefs  would  not 
fuffice. — If  men  will  go  on  in  fin,  though  they  be- 
lieve the  punifhment  due  to  it  will  be  eternal,  then 
much  more  v/ould  they  perfift  in  it,  if  it  were  not  eter  • 
nal;  or,  if  they  fay  they  will  indulge  themfelves  in 
iin,  becaufe  they  believe  it  not  eternal,  then  this  proves 
from  their  own  mouthy  that  it  Ihould  be  eternal  in  or- 
der to  reftrain  them.     The  prevalence  of  fm  in  the 
World  tends  to  render  it  miferable  •,  and  therefore,  to 
prevent  it,  as  well  as  to  difplay  God's  eternal  regard 
to  moral  goodnefs,  it  is  fit  that  he  fliould  annex  the 
higheft  degree  of  punifhment  to  difobedience  in  every 
individual  -,  for  the  indulgence  of  fin  in  one  individual 
would  be  a  temptation  to  the  whole  rational  creation  •, 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  threatenings  of  everlafting 
punifhment  to  all  flnners  indefinitely,  is  necefTary  to 
deter  the  whole  rational  world,  and  every  particular 
perfon  from  difobedience.    Thus  in  civil  government. 
It  is  necefTary  that  robbery  fhould  be  threatened  inde- 
finitely with  death,  becaufe,  though  one  robber  may 
take  from  a  man  but  what  he  can  very  well  fpare ;  yet, 
if  every  nian  might  rob  and  plunder  his  neighbour, 
the  confequence  would  be  univerfal  robbery  and  con- 
fufion.     It  is  therefore  neceflary  that  the  greatefl  pu- 
nlfnment  fliould  be  threatened  to  difobedience,  both 
to  prevent  it  and  to  teflify  the  divine  difpleafure  againfl 
at;  which  is  the  primary  defign  of  the  threatening; 
and  fince  the  penalty  was  annexed  with  this  view,  it 
follows,  that  it  was  primarily  ena6led  with  a  view  t6 
the  happinefs  of  mankind,  by  preventing  what  would 
naturally  make  them  miferable,  and  but  fecondarily 
with  a  view  to  be  executed ;  for  it  is  to  be  executed 
only  upon  condition  of  difobedience ;  which  difobe- 
dience it  was  intended  to  prevent,  and  confequently  it 
was  not  immediately  intended  to  be  executed,  or  en- 
a6ted  for  the  fake  of  the  execution,  as  though  God 
took  a  malignant  pleafure  in  the  mifery  of  his  crea^ 
tulres,     But  when  the  penalty  has  failed  of  its  primary 

endv 


Serm.  I.  of  the  Chrijiian  Religion.  93 

end,  reftraining  from  fin,  then  it  is  fit  it  fhould  anfwer 
its  fecondary  end,  and  be  executed  upon  the  offender, 
to  keep  the  reft  of  reafonable  creatures  in  their  obedi- 
ence, to  illuftrate  the  veracity  and  hoHnefs  of  the  law- 
giver, and  prevent  his  government  from  falhng  into 
contempt.  There  are  the  fame  reafons  that  threaten- 
ings  fhould  be  executed  when  denounced,  as  for  their 
bemg  denounced  at  firft  •,  for  threatenings  never  exe- 
cuted, are  the  fame  with  no  threatenings  at  all. 

Let  me  add,  that  the  gofpel  lays  us  under  the  ftrong- 
eft  obligations  from  gratitude.  It  not  only  clearly  in- 
forms us  of  our  obligations  to  God,  as  the  author  of 
our  being  and  all  our  temporal  bleffings,  which  natu- 
ral religion  more  faintly  difcovers,  but  fuperadds  thofe 
more  endearing  ones  deriv'ed  from  the  fcheme  of  man's 
redemption  through  the  death  of  the  eternal  Son  of 
God.  Though  the  bleffings  of  creation  and  Provi- 
dence are  great  in  themfelves,  they  are  fwallowed  up, 
as  it  were,  and  loft  in  the  love  of  God  j  which  is  com- 
mended to  us  by  this  matchlefs  circumftance,  "  that 
while  we  were  yet  finnersj  Chrift  died  for  us-,'*  and 
while  under  the  conftraints  of  this  love,  we  cannot  but 
devote  ourfelves  entirely  to  God,  2  Corinth,  y.  14,15. 

Thus  I  have  hinted  at  a  few  things  among  the  ma- 
ny that  might  be  mentioned  to  prove  the  divinity  of 
the  religion  of  Jefus,  and  its  fufficiency  to  bring  men 
io  repentance  and  falvation.  And  if  it  be  fo,  why 
ihould  itberejecfled,  or  another  fought  ? — This  reminds 
me  that  I  promifed, 

II.  To  expofe  the  vanity  and  unreafonablenefs  of 
the  objedions  againft  the  Chriftian  Religion,  or  of  de- 
manding another,  ^c. 

\Vhat  can  our  ingenious  infidels  offer  againft  what 
has  been  faid  ?  It  muft  be  fomething  very  weighty 
indeed  to  preponderate  all  this  evidence.  A  laugh, 
or  a  fneer,  a  pert  witticifm,  declaiming  againft  prieft- 
craft  and  the  prejudices  of  education,  artful  evafions, 
and  ftiallow  fophifms,  the  ufual  arguments  of  our  pre- 
tended free-thinkers,  thefe  will  not  fuffice  to  banter 

us 


94         ^he  divhte  Authority  and  Sufficimcy       Serm.  i. 

us  out  of  our  joyful  confidence  of  the  divinity  of  the 
religion  of  Jefus ;  and  I  may  add,  thefe  will  not  fuf- 
fice  to  indemnify  them.  Nothing  will  be  fufficient  for 
this  but  demonflration :  it  lies  upon  them  to  prove 
the  chriftian  religion  to  be  certainly' falfe ;  otherwife, 
unlefs  they  are  hardened  to  a  prodigy,  they  muft  be 
racked  with  anxious  fears  left  they  fhould  find  it  true 
at  leaft  to  their  coftj  and  left  that  difmal  threatening 
fhould  ftand  firm  againft  them  : — "  He  that  believeth 
fiot^Jhall  be  damned."^  What  mighty  objecflions,  then, 
have  they  to  offer  ?  Will  they  fay  that  the  chriftian 
religion  contains  myfterious  dodrines,  which  they 
cannot  comprehend,  which  feem  to  them  unaccount- 
able ?  As  that  of  the  Trinity,  the  Incarnation,  and 
Satisfacflion  of  Chrift,  ^c.  But  will  they  advance 
their  underftanding  to  be  the  univerfal  ftandard  of 
truth  ?  Will  they  pretend  to  comprehend  the  infinite 
God  in  their  finite  minds  ?  then  let  them  go,  and 
meafure  the  heavens  with  a  fpan,  and  comprehend  the 
ocean  in  the  hollow  of  their  hand.  Will  they  pretend 
to  underftand  the  divine  nature,  when  they  cannot 
underftand  their  own  ?  when  they  cannot  account  for 
or  explain  the  union  betwixt  their  own  fouls  and  bo- 
dies .''  Will  they  reject  myfteries  in  chriftianity,  when 
they  muft  own  them  in  every  thing  elfe  ?  Let  them 
firft  folve  all  the  phaenomena  in  nature  j  let  them  give 
us  a  rational  theory  of  the  infinite  divifibility  of  a 
piece  of  finite  matter  •>  let  them  account  for  the  feem- 
ingly  magical  operation  of  the  loadftone  ;  the  circu- 
lation  of  the  blood  upwards  as  well  as  downwards, 
contrary  to  all  the  laws  of  motion  \  let  them  inform 
us  of  the  caufes  of  the  cohefion  of  the  particles  of 
matter  ;  let  them  tell  us,  how  fpirits  can  receive  ideas 
from  material  organs ;  how  they  hear  and  fee,  ^c.  let 
them  give  us  intelligible  theories  of  thefe  things,  and 
then  they  may,  v/ith  fomething  of  a  better  grace,  fet 
up  for  critics  upon  God  and  his  ways  •,  but,  while  they 
are  myfteries  to  them.felves,  while  every  particle  of 
matter  baiSes  their  underftandings,  .it  is  the  moft  im- 

p!OU§ 


Serm.  I.  of  the  Chriftian  Rdigion.  95 

pious  intelledual  pride  to  rejefc  chriftianity  upon  the 
account  of  its  myfteries,  and  to  fet  up  themfelves  as 
the  fupreme  judges  of  truth. 

Or  will  they  objed  that  there  are  a  great  many  dif- 
fxult  and  ftrange  pafTages  in  fcripture,  the  meaning 
and  propriety  of  which  tliey  do  not  fee  ?  And  are  there 
not  many  ftrange  things  in  the  book  of  nature,  and 
the  adminiftration  of  Providence,  the  defign  and  ufe 
of  which  they  cannot  fee,  many  things  that  to  them 
feem  wrong  and  ill-contrived  ?  Yet  they  own  the  world 
was  created  by  God,  and  that  his  providence  rules  it : 
and  why  will  they  not  allow  that  the  fcriptures  may  be 
from  God,  notwithftanding  thefe  difficulties  and  feem- 
ing  incongruities?  When  a  learned  man  can  eafily 
raife  his  difcourfe  above  the  capacity  of  common  peo- 
ple, will  they  not  condefcend  to  grant  that  an  infinite 
God  can  eafily  overfhoot  their  little  fouls  ?  Indeed  a 
revelation  which  we  could  fully  comprehend,  would 
not  appear  the  produ6lion  of  an  infinite  mind  •,  it  would 
bearnorefemblance  to  its  Heavenly  Father  ;  and  there- 
fore we  fhould  have  reafon  to  fufpedl  it  fpurious.  It 
is  neccffary  we  fhould  meet  with  difHculties  in  the 
fcriptures  to  mortify  our  pride.  But  farther,  will  they 
make  no  allov/ance  for  the  different  cuftoms  and  prac- 
tices of  different  ages  ?  It  is  certain,  that  m.ay  be 
proper  and  graceful  in  one  age  which  would  be  ridi- 
culous and  abfurd  in  another  •,  and  fince  the  fcriptures 
were  written  fo  many  years  ago,  we  may  fafely  make 
this  allowance  for  them,  which  will  remove  many 
feeming  abfurdities.  There  fhould  alfo  allowance  be 
made  for  the  fcriptures  being  rendered  literally  out  of 
dead  difficult  languages  -,  for  we  know  that  many  ex- 
preffions  may  be  beautiful  and  fignificant  in  one  lan- 
guage, which  would  be  ridiculous  and  nonfenfical  if 
literally  tranflated  into  another.  Were  Homer  or  Vir- 
gil thus  tranflated  into  Englifh,  without  regard  to  the 
idiom  of  the  language,  inflead  of  admiring  their  beau- 
ties, we  fhould  be  apt  to  think  (as  Cowley  expreiles  it) 
"  that  one  madman  had  traoflated  another  madman." 

Will 


9^         The  divine  Authority  and  Sufficiency       Serm.  i . 

Will  they  objed:  the  wicked  lives  of  its  profefTors 
againft  the  holinefs  and  good  tendency  of  chriftianity 
itfelf  ?  But  is  it  chriflianity,  as  praftifed  in  the  world, 
or  chriirianity  as  taught  by  Chrifn  ^nd  his  apoftles, 
and  continued  in  the  Bible,  that  I  am  proving  to  be 
divine  ?  You  know  it  is  the  latter,  and  confequently 
the  poor  appearance  it  makes  in  the  former  fenfe,  is 
no  argument  againfl:  its  purity  and  divinity  in  this. 
Again,  are  the  bad  lives  of  profefTors  taught  and  en- 
joined by  genuine  chriftianity,  and  agreeable  to  it  ? 
No-,  they  are  quite  contrary  to  it,  and  fubverfive  of 
it  \  and  it  is  fo  far  from  encouraging  fuch  profefTors, 
that  it  pronounces  them  miferable  hypocrites  •,  and 
their  doom  will  be  more  fevere  than  that  of  heathens. 
Again,  are  there  not  hypocritical  profeflbrs  of  mora- 
lity and  natural  religion,  as  v/ell  as  of  revealed  ?  Are 
there  not  many  who  cry  up  morality  and  religion  of 
nature,  and  yet  boldly  violate  its  plainefl  precepts  t 
If  therefore  this  be  a  fufficient  objeflion  againfl  chrif- 
tianity, it  mufl  be  fo  too  againft  all  religion.  Further: 
do  men  grow  better  by  renouncing  the  religion  of 
Jefus  ?  Obfervation  aflures  us  quite  the  contrary. 
Finally,  are  there  not  fome  of  the  profeflbrs  of  chrif- 
tianity, who  live  habitually  according  to  it  ?  who  give 
us  the  befl  patterns  of  piety  and  virtue  that  ever  were 
exhibited  to  the  world  ?  This  is  fufficient  to  vindicate 
the  religion  they  profefs,  and  it  is  highly  injurious  to 
involve  fuch  promifcuoufly  in  the  odium  and  contempt 
due  to  barefaced  hypocrites.  How  would  this  rea- 
ibning  pleafe  the  Deifls  themfelves  in  parallel  cafes? 
"  Some  that  have  no  regard  to  chriflianity  have  been 
murderers,  thieves,  &c.  therefore  all  that  difregard  it 
are  fuch."  Or  "  fome  that  pretended  to  be  honefl, 
have  been  found  villains  ;  therefore  all  that  pretend  to 
it  are  fuch ;  or  therefore  honcfly  is  no  virtue." 

Or  will  they  change  the  note,  and  inflead  of  plead- 
ing that  chriflianity  leads  to  licentioufnefs,  objecfl  that 
it  bears  too  hard  upon  the  pleafures  of  mankind,  and 
lays  them  under  too  fevere  reflraints  ?     Or  that  its 

penalties 


Serm.  I.  of  the  Ckrijiian  Religion^  95^ 

penalties  are  exceffive  and  cruel  ?     But  does  it  rob 
mankind  of  any  pleafures  worthy  the  rational  nature, 
worthy  the  purfuit  of  creatures  formed  for  immortali- 
ty, and  confiftent  with  the  good  of  the  whole  ?  It  re- 
ftrains  them  indeed ;  but  it  is  only  as  a  phylician  re- 
trains his  patient  from  poifon  or  an  improper  regimen ; 
it  reftrains  men  from  living  like  beatls ;  it  reftrains 
them  from  thofe  pleafures  which  will  ruin  their  fouls 
and  bodies  in  the  event ;  it  reftrains  them  from  grati- 
fying a  private  palTion  at  the  expence  of  the  public ; 
in  fhort,  it  reftrains  them  from   making  themfelves 
and  others  miferable.     Hard  reftraints  indeed  !   and 
the  Deifts,  to  be  fure,  are  generous  patrons  of  human 
liberty,  who  would  free  us  from  fuch  grievances  as 
thefe!     However,  this  objedtion  lets  us  into  the  fe- 
cret,  and  informs  us  of  the  reafon  why  our  pretended 
free-thinkers  are  fuch  enemies  to  chriftianity  :   it  is 
becaufe  it  checks  their  lufts,  and  will  not  permit  them 
to  acft,  as  well  as  to  think  freely,  /'.  e.  as  they  pleafe. 
\i  they  would  content  themfelves  with  manly  and  ra- 
tional pleafures,  they  would  not  count  the  reftraints  of 
chriftianity  intolerable-,  nay,  they  would  find  in  it  a 
fet  of  peculiarly  noble   and  refined   pleafures,  which 
they  might  feek  in  vain  elfewhere-,  for  it  is  fo  far  from 
being  an  enemy  to  the  happinefs  of  man,  that  it  was 
defigned  to  promote  it;  and  then  we  make  ourfelves 
miferable  when  we  rejedt  it,  or  it  becomes  our  intereft 
that  it  fhould  be  falfe.     As  to  the  penalty  of  everlaft- 
ing  puniftiment  annexed  to  fin,  which  is  but  a  tempo- 
ral evil,  I  would  afk  them  whether  they  are  compe- 
tent judges  in  a  matter  in  which  they  are  parties  ? 
Are  they  capable  to  determine  what  degree  of  punifti- 
ment ftiould  be  inflicted  upon  difobedience  to  the  infi- 
nite Majefty  of  heaven,  when  they  are  not  only  ftiort- 
fighted  creatures,  but  alfo  concerned  in  the  aft^air,  and 
their  judgments  may   be  perverted  by  felf-intereft ? 
Whether  is  it  moft  fit  that  the  Judge  of  all  the  earth 
fhould  determine  this  point,  or  a  company  of  male- 
fadlors,   as  they  are  ?     Is  it  allowed  to  criminals  in 

O  civil 


gd'        The  divine  Authority  and  Sufficiency       Serm.  i. 

civil  courts  to  determine  their  own  doom,  and  pro- 
nounce their  own  fentence?  If  it  were,  few  of  them 
would  be  punifhed  at  all,  and  government  would  fall 
into  contempt.  Again,  let  me  remind  them,  that  the 
penalty  v/as  annexed  to  prevent  difobedience,  and  fo 
to  render  the  execution  needlefs-,  and  confequently  it 
was  primarily  intended  for  their  good.  Why  then 
will  they  fruftrate  this  defign,  and,  when  they  have 
rendered  the  execution  neceiTary,  complain  of  its  fe- 
verity  ?  If  they  think  the  penalty  fo  terrible,  let  them 
watch  againft  fin,  let  them  accept  the  falvation  the 
gofpel  offers,  and  fo  avoid  it  inftead  of  quarrelling 
with  its  feverity,  and  yet  rulhing  upon  it.  Or,  if  they 
fay  they  will  perfift  in  fin  becaufe  they  do  not  believe 
the  punifhment  is  eternal ;  this  gives  me  room  to  ap- 
peal to  themfelves  whether  a  lefs  penalty  than  ever- 
lafting  mifery  would  be  fufficient  to  reftrain  them  from 
lin ;  and  w  hether  God  would  have  taken  all  proper 
precautions  to  prevent  fin,  if  he  had  annexed  a  lefs 
puniihment  to  his  law,  fmce,  by  their  own  confeffion, 
nothing  lefs  could  deter  them  from  it.  I  fhall  only 
add,  that  as  the  human  foul  mufl  always  exift,  and 
as  by  indulgence  in  fin  in  the  prefent  Itate  it  contrads 
fuch  habits  as  render  it  incapable  of  happinefs  in  the 
holy  enjoyment  of  the  heavenly  world,  it  muft  by  a 
natural  neceflity  be  for  ever  miferable,  though  God 
fhould  not  exert  any  pofitive  aft  for  its  punifhment. 
And  if  the  Deifts  fay,  that  punifhment  for  fome  time 
would  reclaim  offenders  from  fin,  and  bring  them  to 
repentance,  the  difficulty  is  not  removed,  unlefs  they 
can  prove  that  mifery  will  bring  men  to  love  that  God 
who  inflidts  it,  which  they  can  never  do ; — and  it  is 
evident,  that  that  repentance  which  proceeds  merely 
from  felf-love,  without  any  regard  to  God  at  all,  can 
never  be  pleafing  to  him,  nor  prepare  them  for  hap- 
pinefs in  the  enjoyment  of  him.  Punifhment  would 
produce  a  repentance  like  that  of  a  fick-bed,  forced, 
fervile,  and  tranfitory. 

Will 


Serm.  i.  of  the  Chrijlian  Religion.  99 

Will  thev  objed,  that  miracles  are  not  a  fufficient 
evidence  of  the  truth  and  divinity  of  a  revelation, 
becaufe  infernal  fpirits  may  alfo  work  miracles,  as  in 
the  cafe  of  the  magicians  of  Egypt,  to  confirm  an  im- 
pofture  ?  But  it  is  known  that  our  free-thinkers  ex- 
plode and  laugh  at  the  exiftence  and  power  of  evil  fpi- 
rits in  other  cafes,  and  therefore  muft  not  be  allowed 
to  admit  them  here  to  ferve  a  turn.  However,  we 
grant  there  are  infernal  fpirits,  and  that  they  can  per- 
form many  things  above  human  power,  which  may 
appear  to  us  miraculous,  and  yet  the  evidence  in  fa- 
vour of  chriftianity  taken  from  miracles  (lands  unfha- 
ken ;  for  ( i )  Can  we  fuppofe  that  thefe  malignant  and 
wicked  fpirits,  whofe  bufinefs  it  is  to  feduce  men  to 
fin  and  ruin,  would  be  willing  to  exert  their  power  to 
work  miracles  to  confirm  fo  holy  a  religion,  a  religion 
fo  contrary  to  their  defign,  and  fo  fubverfive  of  their 
kingdom  and  intereft?  This  would  be  wretched  po- 
licy indeed.  Or  if  we  fliould  fuppofe  them  willing, 
yet,  (2)  Can  we  think  that  God,  who  has  them  ail 
at  his  control,  would  fufFer  them  to  counterfeit  the 
great  feal  of  heaven,  and  annex  it  to  an  impofture  ? 
that  is,  to  work  fuch  miracles  as  could  not  be  diftin- 
guifhed  from  thofe  wrought  by  him  to  attcft  an  im- 
pofture ?  Would  he  permit  them  to  impofe  upon  man- 
kind in  a  manner  that  could  not  be  deteded  ?  This 
would  be  to  deliver  the  world  to  their  management, 
and  fufFer  them  to  lead  them  blindfold  to  hell  in  una- 
voidable delufion:  for  miracles  are  fuch  dazzling  and 
pompous  evidences,  that  the  general  run  of  mankind 
could  not  refift  them,  even  though  they  were  wrought 
to  atteft  a  religion  that  might  be  demonftrated  by  a 
long  train  of  fublime  reafoning  to  be  falfe.  God  may 
indeed  fuiFer  the  devil  to  mimic  the  miracles  wrought 
by  his  immediate  hand,  as  in  the  cafe  of  Jannes  and 
Jambres ;  but  then,  as  in  that  cafe  too,  he  will  take 
care  to  excel  them,  and  give  fome  diftinguifhing  marks 
of  his  almighty  agency,  which  all  mankind  may  eafily 
tiifcriminate   from   the  utmoft  exertion    of  infernal 

pov/er. 


100       The  divine  Authority  and  Sufficiency      Serm.  i . 

power.  But  though  Satan  jfhould  he  willing,  and 
God  fhould  permit  him  to  work  miracles,  yet,  (3) 
Can  we  fuppofe  that  all  the  united  powers  of  hell 
united,  are  able  to  work  fuch  aftonilfhing  miracles  as 
were  wrought  for  the  confirmation  of  the  chriftian  re- 
ligion? Can  we  fuppofe  that  they  can  control  the 
laws  of  nature  at  pleafure,  and  that  with  an  air  of  fo- 
vereignty,  and  profefling  themfelves  the  lords  of  the 
univerfe,  as  we  know  Chrift  did  ?  If  we  can  believe 
this,  then  we  deify  them,  and  may  as  well  afcribe  the 
creation  and  prefervation  of  the  world  to  them.  If 
they  could  exert  a  creating  power  to  form  new  limbs 
for  the  maimed,  or  to  multiply  five  loaves  and  two 
filhes  into  a  fufficient  quantity  of  food  for  five  thou- 
fand,  and  leave  a  greater  quantity  of  fragments  when 
that  were  done  than  the  whole  provifion  at  firft,  then 
they  might  create  the  world,  and  fupport  all  the  crea- 
tures in  it.  If  they  could  animate  the  dead  and  re- 
mand the  feparate  foul  back  to  its  former  habitation, 
and  reunite  it  with  the  body,  then  I  fee  not  why  they 
might  not  have  given  us  life  at  firft.  But  to  fuppofe 
this,  would  be  to  dethrone  the  King  of  Heaven,  and 
renounce  his  providence  entirely.  We  therefore  reft 
afiured  that  the  miracles  related  in  the  fcriptures  were 
wrought  by  the  finger  of  God. 

But  our  free-thinkers  will  urge,  How  do  we  at  this 
diftance  know  that  fuch  miracles  were  adually  wrought } 
they  are  only  related  in  fcripture-hiftory  ;  but  to  prove 
the  truth  of  fcripture  from  arguments  that  fuppofe  the 
fcripture  true,  is  a  ridiculous  method  of  reafoning, 
and  only  a  begging  of  the  quefi:ion.  But  (i)  the  re- 
rillty  of  thofe  miracles  was  granted  by  the  enemies  of 
chriftianity  in  their  writings  againft  it;  and  they  had 
no  anfwer  to  make,  but  this  forry  one,  that  they  were 
wrought  by  the  power  of  magic.  They  never  durft 
deny  that  they  were  v/rought;  for  they  knew  all  the 
v/crJd  could  prove  it.  Indeed,  an  honourable  tefti- 
mony  concerning  them  could  not  be  expeded  from  in- 
fidels J  for  it  v/ould  be  utterly  inconfiftent  that  they 

ihould 


Serm.  i.         of  the  Chrifiian  Religion.  loi 

fliould  own  thefe  miracles  fufficient  atteftatlons  of 
chriftianity,  and  yet  continue  infidels.  And  this  may 
anfwer  an  unreafonable  demand  of  the  Deifts,  that  we 
fhould  produce  fome  honourable  teftimony  concerning 
thefe  atteftations  from  Jews  and  Heathens,  as  well  as 
from  Chriftians,  who  were  parties.  We  fhould  have 
much  more  reafon  to  fufpe^t  the  teftimony  of  the  for- 
mer as  not  convidive  when  it  did  not  convince  the 
perfons  themfelves.     But, 

(2.)  As  thefe  miracles  were  of  fo  public  a  nature, 
and  as  fo  many  were  concerned  to  deteft  them,  that 
they  would  unavoidably  have  been  detefted  when  re- 
lated in  words  if  they  had  not  been  done^  fo,  for  the 
fame  reafons,  they  could  not  but  have  been  deteded 
when  related  in  writing;  and  this  we  know  they  never 
were.  If  thefe  miracles  had  not  been  matters  of  un- 
doubted fa(5t,  they  could  not  have  been  inferted-at  firft 
in  the  gofpel-hiftory  ;  for  then  many  thoufands  in  va- 
rious countries  were  alive  to  confute  them ;  and  they 
could  not  have  been  intruded  into  it  afterwards,  for 
all  the  world  would  fee  that  it  was  then  too  late,  and 
that  if  there  had  been  fuch  things,  they  fhould  have 
heard  of  them  before  :  for  they  were  much  more  ne- 
ceflary  for  the  firft  propagation  of  chriftianity  than  for 
its  fupport  when  received. 

But  it  may  be  objedled,  How  can  we  at  this  diftance 
know  that  thefe  hif-tories  are  genuine  ?  May  they  not 
have  been  corrupted,  and  many  additions  made  to 
them  by  defigning  men  in  ages  fince  ?  And  why  is  it 
not  alfo  afked,  how  do  we  know  that  there  were  fuch 
men  as  Alexander,  Julius  Ctefir,  or  King  William  the 
Third  t  How  do  we  know  but  their  hiftories  are  all 
romance  and  fable  ?  How  do  we  know  that  there 
were  any  generations  of  mankind  before  ourfelves  .^ 
How  do  we  know  but  all  the  ads  of  parliament  of 
former  reigns  are  corrupted,  and  we  are  ruled  by  im- 
pcfitions  ?  In  fhort.  How  can  v/e  know  any  thing, 
but  what  we  have  it^n  with  our  eyes  ?  We  may  as 
well  make  difficulties  of  all  thefe  things,  and  fo  de- 

fl:roy 


tdi.         I'he  divine  Authority  and  Sufficiency      Serm.  i. 

ftroy  all  human  teftimony,  as  fcruple  the  genuinenefs 
of  the  {acred  writings ;  for  never  were  any  writings 
conveyed  down  with  fo  good  evidence  of  their  being 
genuine  and  uncorrupted  as  thefe.  Upon  their  firft 
publication  they  were  put  into  all  hands,  they  were 
fcatt-ercd  into  all  nations,  tranflated  into  various  lan- 
guages, and  all  perufed  them  ;  either  to  be  taught  by 
them,  or  to  cavil  at  them.  And  ever  fince,  they  have 
been  quoted  by  thoufands  of  authors,  appealed  to  by 
all  parties  of  chriftians,  as  the  fupreme  judge  of  con- 
troverfies;  and  not  only  the  enemies  of  chriftianity 
have  carefully  watched  them  to  dete6t  any  alterations 
which  pious  fraud  might  attempt  to  make,  but  one 
fed  of  chriftians  has  kept  a  watchful  eye  over  the  other, 
left  they  fhould  alter  any  thing  in  favour  of  their  own 
caufe.  And  it  is  matter  of  aftonifhment  as  well  as 
convidlion,  that  all  the  various  copies  and  tranflations 
of  the  fcriptures  in  different  nations  and  libraries  are 
fubftantially  the  fame,  and  differ  only  in  matters  of 
fmall  moment ;  fo  that  from  the  worft  copy  or  tranfla- 
tion  in  the  world,  one  might  eafily  learn  the  fubftance 
of  chriftianity. 

Or  will  our  infidels  infift  to  be  eye-witnefles  of  thefe 
fa<5ls  ^.  Muft  one  arife  from  the  dead,  or  new  miracles 
be  wrought  to  convince  them  by  occular  demonftra- 
tion  ?  This  is  a  moft  unreafonable  demand,  for  ( i ) 
The  continuance  of  miracles  in  every  age  would  be 
attended  with  numerous  inconveniences.  For  exam- 
ple. Multitudes  muft  be  born  blind,  deaf,  or  dumb; 
multitudes  muft  be  afflided  with  incurable  difeafes, 
and  poftefTed  by  evil  fpirits ;  multitudes  muft  be  dif- 
turbed  in  the  fleep  of  death  •,  and  all  the  laws  of  na- 
ture muft  be  made  precarious  and  fickle,  in  order  to 
leave  room  for  miraculous  operations  -,  and  all  this  to 
humour  a  company  of  obftinate  infidels,  who  would 
not  believe  upon  lefs  ftriking  though  entirely  fufficient 
evidence.  (2.)  The  continuance  of  miracles  from  age 
to  age  would  deftroy  their  very  nature,  to  which  it  is 
eftential,  that  they  be  rare  and  extraordinary  \  for  what 

is 


Serm.  I.  of  the  Chrijlian  Religion.  103 

is  ordinary  and  frequent,  we  are  apt  to  afcribe  to  thQ 
eftablifhed  laws  of  nature,  however  wonderful  it  be 
in  itfelf  For  example,  if  we  fav/  dead  bodies  rife 
from  their  graves,  as  often  as  we  fee  vegetables  fpring 
from  feed  rotteruin  the  earth,  we  fhould  be  no  more 
furprifed  at  the  one  phasnomenon  than  we  are  at  the 
other,  and  our  virttioft  would  be  equally  bufy  to  aflign 
fome  natural  caufe  for  both. 

And  had  we  never  feen  the  fun  rife  until  this  morn- 
ing, we  fhould  juftly  have  accounted  it  as  great  a  mi- 
racle as  any  recorded  in  the  fcriptures  ;  but  becaufe  it 
is  common,  we  negleft  it  as  a  thing  of  courfe.  In- 
deed, it  is  not  any  thing  in  the  event  itfelf,  or  in  the 
degree  of  pov/er  neceffary  for  its  accompliihment,  that 
renders  it  miraculous,  but  its  being  uncommon,  and 
out  of  the  ordinary  courfe  of  things  -,  for  example, 
the  generation  of  the  human  body  is  not  in  itfelf  lefs 
aftonifhing,  nor  does  it  require  lefs  power,  than  its 
refurredion :  the  revolution  of  the  fun  in  its  regular 
courfe,  is  as  wonderful,  and  as  much  requires  a  divine 
power,  as  its  ftanding  ftill  in  the  days  of  Jolhua.  But 
we  acknowledge  a  miracle  in  the  one  cafe,  but  not  in 
the  other,  becaufe  the  one  is  extraordinary,  while  the 
other  frequently  occurs.  Hence  it  follows,  that  the 
frequent  repetition  of  miracles,  as  often  as  men  are 
pleafed  to  plead  the  want  of  evidence  to  excufe  their 
infidelity,  would  deftroy  their  very  nature ;  and  con- 
fequently,  to  demand  their  continuance  is  to  demand 
an  impoflibility.  But  (3)  Suppofe  that  men  fhould 
be  indulged  in  this  requeft,  it  would  not  probably 
bring  them  to  believe.  If  they  are  unbelievers  now, 
it  is  not  for  want  of  evidence,  but  through  wilful 
blindnefs  and  obflinacy,  and  as  they  that  will  fhut 
their  eyes  can  fee  no  more  in  meridian  light  than  in  the 
twilight,  fo  they  that  rejedt  a  fufficiency  of  evidence 
would  alfo  refift  a  fuperfluity  of  it.  Thus  the  Jews, 
who  were  eye-witnedes  of  the  miracles  recorded  in  the 
fcriptures,  continued  invincible  infidels  flill.  They 
had  always  fome  trifling  caval  ready  to  objedl  agalnft 

the 


104         The  divine  Authority  and  Sufficiency      Serm.  i„ 

the  brighteft  evidence.  And  thus  our  modern  infidels 
would  no  doubt  evade  the  force  of  the  moft  rairacu- 
lou3  atteftation  by  fome  v/retched  hypothecs  or  other: 
they  would  look  upon  miracles  either  as  magical  pro- 
dudions,  or  illufions  of  their  fenfes  ;  or  rather,  as  na- 
tural and  neceffary  events,  which  they  would  indeed 
have  fome  reafon  to  conclude,  if  they  w^ere  frequently 
performed  before  their  eyes.  Some  have  pretended 
to  doubt  of  the  exiftence  and  perfeilions  of  God,  not- 
withftanding  the  evidences  thereof  upon  this  magni- 
ficent ftrudure  of  the  univerfe  j  and  muft  God  be  al- 
ways creating  new  worlds  before  thefe  obftinate  crea- 
tures for  their  convidion  .^  Such  perfons  have  as  much 
reafon  to  demand  it  in  this  cafe,  as  our  Deifts  have  to 
infift  for  new  miracles  in  the  other.  I  might  add,  that 
fuch  glaring  evidence,  as,  like  the  light  of  the  fun, 
would  force  itfelf  irreiirtibly  upon  the  minds  of  the 
moft  reluftant,  v/ould  not  leave  room  for  us  to  fhov/ 
our  regard  to  God  in  believing,  for  we  fhould  then 
believe  from  extrinfic  neceffity,  and  not  from  choice. 
It  is  therefore  moft  correfpondent  to  our  prefent  ftate 
of  probation,  that  there  fhould  be  fomething  in  the 
evidence  of  a  divine  revi^lation  to  try  us;  fomething 
that  might  fully  convince  the  teachable,  and  yet  not 
remove  all  umbrages  for  cavilling-  from  the  obftinate. 

Thus  I  have  anfwered  as  many  objections  as  the 
bounds  of  a  fermon  would  admit;  and  1  think  they 
are  the  principal  ones  which  lie  againft  my  fubjed:  in 
the  view  I  have  confidered  it.  And  as  I  have  not 
defignedly  felefted  the  weakeft,  in  order  to  an  eafy 
triumph,  you  may  look  upon  the  anfwers  that  have 
been  given  as  a  ground  of  rational  prefumption,  that 
all'other  objedlions  may  be  anfwered  with  equal  eafe. 
Indeed,  if  they  could  not,  it  would  not  invalidate  the 
pofitive  arguments  in  favour  of  chriftianity  ;  for  when 
we  have  fufficient  pofitive  evidence  for  a  thing,  we  do 
not  rejed  it,  becaufe  it  is  attended  with  fome  dilHcui- 
ties  which  we  cannot  folve. 

My 


Serm.  t.  of  the  Chrifiian  Religion.  Idj 

My  time  will  allow  me  to  make  but  two  or  three 
fhort  refledions  upon  the  whole. 

1 .  If  the  religion  of  Jefus  be  attefted  with  fuch  full 
evidence,  and  be  fufficient  to  conduct  men  to  everlaft- 
ing  felicity,  then  how  helplefs  are  they  that  have  en- 
joyed it  all  their  life  without  profit  \  who  either  reje6t 
it  as  falfe,  or  have  not  felt  its  power  to  reform  their 
hearts  and  lives  ?  It  is  the  laft  remedy  provided  for 
a  guilty  Vt^orld ;  and  if  this  fails,  their  difeafe  is  in- 
curable, and  they  are  not  to  expec5l  better  means. 

2.  If  the  religion  of  Jefus  be  true,  then  wo  unto 
the  wicked  of  all  forts ;  wo  to  infidels  both  pra61ical 
and  fpeculative,  for  all  the  curfes  of  it  are  in  full  force 
againft  them,  and  I  need  not  tell  you  how  dreadful 
they  are. 

3.  If  the  religion  of  Jefus  be  true,  then  I  congra- 
tulate fuch  of  you,  v/hofe  hearts  and  lives  are  habitually 
conformed  to  it,  and  who  have  ventured  your  ever- 
lafting  All  upon  it.  You  build  upon  a  fure  founda- 
tion, and  your  hope  fhall  never  make  you  afhamed. 

Finally,  Let  us  all  ftrive  to  become  rational  and 
practical  believers  of  this  heaven-born  religion.  Let 
our  underftandings  be  more  rationally  and  thoroughly 
convinced  of  its  truth ;  and  our  hearts  and  lives  be 
more  and  more  conformed  to  its  purity  \  and  ere  long 
we  fhall  receive  thofe  glorious  rewards  it  enfures  to  all 
its  finccre  difciples  •,  which  may  God  grant  to  us  all 
for  Jefus'  fake.     Amen ! 

SERMON     II. 

The  Method  of  Salvation  through  Jefus  Chrill. 

John  iii.  16.  For  God  fo  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave 
his  only  begotten  Son,  that  whofoever  believeth  in  him 
Jhould  not  perijh,  but  have  everlajling  life, 

HAVE  been  folicitoufly  thinking  in  what  way  my 

life,  redeemed  from  the  grave,  may  be  of  mcft 

P  fervice 


io6  the  Method  of  Salvation  Serm.  2. 

iervice  to  my  dear  people.  And  I  would  colled:  all 
ihe  feeble  remains  of  my  ftrength  into  one  vigorous 
effort  this  day  to  promote  this  benevolent  end.  \i  I 
knew  what  fubjefl  his  the  moft  direct  tendency  to  fave 
your  fouls,  that  is  the  fubjedc  to  which  my  heart 
v/ould  cling  with  peculiar  endearment,  and  which  1 
v/ould  make  the  matter  of  the  prefent  difcourfe. 

And  when  I  confider  I  am  fpeaking  to  an  aflembly 
of  finners,  guilty,  depraved,  helplefs  creatures,  and 
that,  if  ever  you  be  faved,  it  will  be  only  through 
Jefus  Chrifr,  in  that  way  which  the  gofpel  reveals  j 
when  I  confider  that  your  everlafting  life  and  happi- 
nefs  turn  upon  this  hinge,  namely,  the  reception  you 
give  to  this  Saviour,  and  this  way  of  falvation  -,  I  fay, 
when  I  confider  thefe  things,  I  can  think  of  no  fub- 
jecft  I  can  more  properly  choofe  than  to  recommend 
the  Lord  Jefus  to  your  acceptance,  and  to  explain  and 
inculcate  the  method  of  falvation  through  his  media- 
tion ;  or,  in  other  words,  to  preach  the  pure  gofpel 
to  ycu  J  for  the  gofpel,  in  the  mod  proper  fenfe,  is 
nothing  elfe  but  a  revelation  of  a  way  of  falvation  for 
iinners  of  Adam's  race. 

My  text  furniflies  me  with  proper  materials  for  my 
purpofc.  Let  heaven  and  earth  hear  it  with  wonder, 
joy,  and  raptures  of  praife !  God  fo  loved  the  worlds 
that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son,  that  whofoever  or 
that  every  Qijie  that  believeth  in  him  Jhoitld  not  perijh^ 
but  have  everlajiing  life. 

.  This  is  a  part  of  the  moft  important  evening  con- 
veifation  that  ever  was  held  ;  I  mean,  that  between 
Chrifc  and  N.icodemus,  d.  Pharifee  and  ruler  of  the 
Jews.  Our  Lord  firft  inftru(5l:s  him  in  the  dodrine 
of  regeneration,  that  grand  conftituent  of  a  chriftian, 
and  pre-requifite  to  our  admiflion  into  the  ki«gdom 
6f  heaven  •,  and  then  he  proceeds  to  inform  him  of 
the  gofpel-method  of  falvation,  which  contains  thefe 
two  grand  articles,  the  death  of  Chrift,  as  the  great 
foundation  of  bleifednefs ;  and  faith  in  him,  as  the 
great  qualification  upon  the  part  of  the  finner. — He 

prefents 


Serm.  2,  'through  J ef us  Chriji,  107 

prefents  this  important  doftrlne  to  us  in  various  forms, 
with  a  very  fignificant  repetition.  As  M'ofes  lifted  up 
the  fcrpent  in  the  wildernefs^  even  fo  JJoall  the  Son  of  man 
be  lifted  up ;  tliat  is,  hung  on  Iiigh  on  a  crofs,  that 
wbofoever  believeth  in  him  fJjoiild  not  periJJj^  but  have 
everlafiing  life.  Then  follows  my  text,  which  ex- 
prefTes  the  fame  dodrine  with  great  force  : — God  f) 
loved  the  worlds  that  he  g^ve  his  only  begotten  Son^  gave 
him  up  to  dsathy  that  whofoever  believe ih  in  him  Jhould 
not  perijh^  but  have  everlafiing  life.  He  goes  on  to 
mention  a  wonder.  This  earth  is  a  rebellious  pro- 
vince of  Jehovah's  dominions,  and  therefore  if  his 
Son  fhould  ever  vifit  it,  one  would  think  it  would  be 
as  an  angry  judge,  or  as  the  executioner  of  his  Fa- 
ther's vengeance.  But,  O  aftonilliing  !  God  fent  not 
his  Son  into  the  world  to  condemn  the  worlds  but  that 
the  world  through  him  might  be  faved.  Kencethe  terms 
of  life  and  death  are  thus  fixed.  He  that  believeth  in 
him  is  not  condemned :  but  he  that  believeth  not  is  cotu- 
demned  already^  becaufe  he  hath  not  believed  in  the  name 
of  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God.  Sure  the  heavenly 
rivers  of  pleafure  flow  in  thefe  verfes  !  Never,  me- 
thinks,  was  there  (o  much  gofpel  exprefied  in  fo  few 
words  !  Here  take  the  gofpel  in  miniature,  and  bind 
it  to  your  |iearts  for  ever.  Thefe  verfes  alone,  me- 
thinks,  are  a  fufficient  remedy  for  a  dying  world. 

Tiie  truths  I  would  infer  from  the  text  for  prefent 
improvement  are  thefe : — that  without  Chrifi:  you  are 
ail  in  a  perifhing  condition  j— that  through  Jefus 
Chrift  a  way  is  opened  for  your  falvation  ; — that  thp 
grand  pre-requifite  to  your  being  faved  in  this  way,  is 
faith'  in  Jefus  Chrift  ; — that  every  one,  v/ithout  excep- 
tion, whatever  his  former  character  has  been,  that  is 
enable4  to  comply  with  this  pre-requifite,  fhall  certain- 
ly be  faved  ; — and  that  the  conftitution  of  this  method 
of  filvation,  or  the  miffion  of  Chrift  into  our  world,  as 
the  Saviour  of  finners,  is  a  moft  ftriking  and  aftonifh- 
ing  inftance  and  difplay  of  the  love  of  God. 

I.  My 


loS  The  Method  of  Salvation  Serm.  2. 

I.  My  text  implies,  that  without  Chrift  you  are  all 
in  a  perifhing  condition.     This  holds  true  of  you  in 
particular,  becaufe  it  holds  true  of  the  world  univer- 
faliy  :  for  the  world  was  undoubtedly  in  a  perifning 
condition  without  Chrift,  and  none  but  he  could  re- 
lieve it,  otherwife  God  would  never  have  given  his 
only  begotten  Son  to  fave  it.     God  is  not  oftentatious 
or  prodigal  of  his  gifts,  efpecially  of  fo  ineftimable  a 
gift  as  his  Son,  whom  he  loves  infinitely  more  than 
the  v/hole  creation.     So  great,  fo  dear  a  perfon  would 
not  have  been  fent  upon  a  miflion  which  could  have 
been  difcharged  by  any  other   being.     Thoufands  of 
rams  muft  bleed  in  facrifice,  or  ten  thoufands  of  rivers 
of  oil  muft  fiow  •,  our  firft-born  muft  die  for  our  tranf- 
greffions,  and  the  fruit  of  our  body  for  the  fin  of  our 
fouls  ;  or  Gabriel,  or  fome  of  the  upper  ranks  of  an- 
gels, muft  leave  their  thrones,  and  hang  upon  a  crofs, 
if  fuch  methods  of  faivation  had  been  fufficient.     All 
this  would  have  been  nothing  in  comparifon  of  the 
only  begotten  Son  of  God  leaving  his  native  heaven, 
and  all   its    glories,    afluming   our  degraded   nature, 
fpending  thirty-three  long  and  tedious  years  in  pover- 
ty, difgrace,  and  perfecution,  dying  as  a  malefador 
and  a  fiave  in  the  midft  of  ignominy  and  torture,  and 
lying  a  mangled  breathlefs  corpfe  in  the  grave.     We 
may  be  fure  there  was  the  higheft  degree  of  necefiity 
for  it,  otherwife  God  would  not  have  given  up  his 
dear  Son  to  fuch  an  horrid  fcene  of  fufferings. 

This,  then,  was  the  true  ftate  of  the  worjd,  and 
confequently  yours  without  Chrift  •■,  it  was  nopelefs 
and  ddperate  in  every  view.  In  that  fituation  there 
would  not  have  been  fo  much  goodnefs  in  the  world 
as  to  try  the  efficacy  of  facrifices,  prayers,  tears,  refor- 
mation, and  repentance,  or  they  would  hafe  been 
tried  in  vain.  It  would  have  been  inconfiftent  with 
tlie  honour  of  the  divine  perfedions  and  government, 
to  admit  facrifices,  prayers,  tears,  repentance,  and  re- 
formationj  as  a  fufficient  atonement. 

What 


Serm.  2.  through  Jefus  Chriji.  109 

What  a  melancholy  view  of  the  world  have  we  now 
before  us  !  We  know  the  ftate  of  mankind  only  un- 
der the  gracious  government  of  a  Mediator ;  and  we 
but  feldom  realize  what  our  mifcrable  condition  would 
have  been,  had  this  gracious  admin iftration  never  been 
fet  up.  But  exclude  a  Saviour  in  your  thoughts  for  a 
moment,  and  then  take  a  view  of  the  world — help- 
lefs  ! — hopelefs  ! — under  the  righteous  difpleafure  of 
God  •,  and  defpairing  of  relief! — the  very  faburbs  of 
hell! — the  range  of  malignant  devils ! — the  region  of 
guilt,  mifery,  and  defpair  ! — the  mouth  of  the  infer- 
nal pit ! — the  gate  of  hell ! — This  would  have  been 
the  condition  of  our  world  had  it  not  been  for  that 
Jefus  who  redeemed  it  -,  and  yet  in  this  very  world  he 
is  negleded  and  defpifed. 

But  you  will  afk  me,, "  How  comes  it  that  the  world 
was  in  fuch  an  undone,  helplefs,  hopelefs  condition 
without  Chrift  ?   or  what  are  the  reafons  of  all  this  ?'* 

The  true  account  of  this  will  appear  from  thefe  two 
confiderations,  that  all  mankind  are  finners  ;  and  that 
no  other  method  but  the  mediation  of  Chrift  could 
lender  the  falvation  of  finners  confiftent  with  the  ho- 
nour of  the  divine  perfections  and  government,  with 
the  public  good,  and  even  with  the  nature  of  things. 

All  mankind  are  finners.  This  is  too  evident  to 
need  proof.  They  are  finners,  rebels  againft  the 
greateft  and  beftof  beings,  againft  their  Maker,  their 
liberal  Benefaftor,  and  their  rightful  Sovereign,  to 
whom  they  are  under  ftronger  and  more  endearing  ob- 
ligations than  they  can  be  under  to  any  creature,  or 
even  to  the  entire  fyftem  of  creatures;  finners,  rebels 
in  every  part  of  our  guilty  globe ;  none  righteous, 
no,  not  one;  all  finners,  without  exception:  finners 
from  9ge  to  age  for  thoufands  of  years :  thoufands,. 
millions,  innumerable  multitudes  of  finners.  What 
an  obnoxious  race  is  this  I  There  appears  no  diffi- 
culty in  the  w^ay  of  juftice  to  punifii  fuch  creatures. 
But  what  feeming  infuperable  difficulties  appear  in  the 
way  of  their  falvatiort !     Let  me  m.ention  a  few  of 

them 


1 1  o  I'hc  Method  of  Salvation  Serm .'  2 . 

them  to  recommend  that  blefled  Saviour  who  has  re- 
moved them  all. 

If  fuch  finners  be  faved,  how  fhall  the  hollnefs'  and 
juftice  of  God  be  difplayed  ?  How  fhall  he  give  an 
honourable  view  of  himfelf  to  all  worlds,  as  a  Being 
of  perfeft  purity,  and  an  enemy  to  all  moral  evil  ? 

If  fuch  finners  be  faved,  how  fliall  the  honour  of  the 
divine  government  and  law  be  fecured  ?  How  will 
the  dignity  of  the  law  appear,  if  a  race  of  rebels  may 
trifle  with  it  with  impunity  ?  What  a  forry  law  muft 
that  be  that  has  no  fancflions,  or  whofe  fancHons  may 
be  difpenfed  with  at  pleafure  ?  What  a  contemptible 
government,  that  may  be  infulted  and  rejedled,  and 
the  offender  admitted  into  favour  without  exemplary 
punifhment !  No  government  can  fubfift  upon  fuch 
principles  of  excelTive  indulgence. 

Hovv'  can  fuch  (inners  be  faved,  and  yet  the  good 
of  ihe  public  fecured,  which  is  always  the  end  of 
every  wife  and  good  ruler  }  By  the  public  good  I  do 
not  mean  the  happinefs  of  mankind  alone,  but  I  mean 
th^  happinefs  of  all  worlds  of  reafonable  creatures 
collecfnively,  in  comparifon  of  which  the  happinefs  of 
mankind  alone  may  be  only  a  private  intereft,  which 
fhould  always  give  way  to  the  public  good.  Now  fin 
has  a  direcfl  tendency,  not  only  according  to  law,  hut 
according  to  the  nature  of  things,  to  fcatter  mifery 
and  ruin  wherever  its  infedion  reaches.  Therefore 
the  public  good  cannot  be  properly  confulted  v/ithout 
giving  a  loud  and  effcdual  warning  againft  all  fin,  and 
dealing  with  offenders  in  fuch  a  manner  as  to  deter 
others  from  offending.  But  how  can  this  be  done  ? 
how  can  the  finner  be  faved,  and  yet  the  evil  of  fin 
be  difplayed,  and  all  other  beings  be  deterred  from  it 
for  ever  .?  How  can  fin  be  difcouraged  by  pafdoning 
it .''  its  evil  difplayed  by  letting  the  criminal  efcape 
puniihment  ?  Thefe  are  fuch  difficulties,  that  nothing 
but  divine -wifdom  could  ever  furmount  them. 

Thefe  difficulties  lie  in  the  way  of  a  mere  pardon 
and  e>;emption  from  punifhment :   but  faivation  in- 
cludes 


Serm.  2.  through  J  ejus  Chrijt.  iii 

dudes  more  than  this.  When  (inners  are  faved,  they 
are  not  oniy  pardoned  but  received  into  high  favour, 
made  the  children,  the  friends,  the  courtiers  of  the 
King  of  Heaven.  They  are  not  only  delivered  from 
punifhment,  but  alfo  advanced  to  a  ftate  of  perfecft 
pofitive  happinefs  ;  and  nothing  fhort  of  this  can  ren- 
der fuch  creatures  as  we  happy.  Now,  in  this  view,- 
die  difficulties  rife  ftill  higher,  and  it  is  the  more  wor- 
thy of  obfervation,  as  this  is  not  generally  the  cafe  in 
human  governments  •,  and  as  men  are  apt  to  form  their 
notions  of  the  divine  government  by  human,  they  are 
lefs  fenfible  of  thefe  difficulties. — But  this  is  indeed 
the  true  ftate  of  the  cafe  here  ;  how  can  the  finner  be 
not  only  delivered  from  punifhment,  but  alfo  advanc- 
ed to  a  ftate  of  perfed  happinefs  ?  ruDt  only  efcape  the 
difpleafure  of  his  offended  Sovereign,  but  be  received 
into  full  favour,  and  advanced  to  the  higheft  honour 
and  dignity }  how  can  this  be  done  without  cafting  a 
cloud  over  the  purity  and  juftice  of  the  Lord  of  all; 
without  finking  his  law  and  government  into  contempt; 
without  diminifhing  the  evil  of  fin,  and  emboldening 
others  to  venture  upon  it,  and  fo  at  once  injuring  the 
charader  of  the  fupreme  Ruler,  and  the  public  good } 
How  can  finners,  I  fay,  be  faved  without  the  falvation 
being  attended  with  thefe  bad  confequences  \ 

And  here  you  mufi:  remember,  that  thefe  confe- 
quences  muft  be  provided  againft.  To  fave  men  at 
random,  without  confidering  the  confequences,  to  dif- 
tribute  happinefs  to  private  perfons  with  an  undiftin- 
guifiiing  hand,  this  would  be  at  once  inconfiftent  with 
the  chara(5ter  of  the  fupreme  Magiftrate  of  the  uni- 
verfe,  and  with  the  public  good.  Private  perfons  arc 
at  liberty  to  forgive  private  offences ;  nay,  it  is  their 
duty  to  forgive ;  and  they  can  hardly  offend  by  way 
of  excefs  in  the  generous  virtues  of  mercy  and  com- 
paflion.  But  the  cafe  is  otherwife  with  a  magiitrate"; 
lie  is  obliged  to  confult  the  dignity  of  his  government 
and  the  intereft  of  the  public;  and  he  may  eafily  carry 
his  lenity  to  a  very  dangerous  extreme,  and  by  his  ten- 

dernefs 


112  The  Method  of  Salvation  Serm.  2 . 

dernefs  to  criminals  do  an  extenfive  injury  to  the  ftate. 
This  is  particularly  the  cafe  with  regard  to  the  great 
God,  the  univerfal  fupreme  Magiftrate  of  all  worlds. 
And  this  ought  to  be  fcrioufly  confidered  by  thofe  men 
of  loofe  principles  among  us,  who  look  upon  God 
only  under  the  fond  charafter  of  a  father,  or  a  being 
of  infinite  mercy,  and  thence  conclude,  they  have 
little  to  fear  from  him  for  all  their  audacious  iniqui- 
ties. There  is  no  abfolute  neceffity  that  fmners  fhould 
be  faved:  juftice  may  be  fuffered  to  take  place  upon 
them. — But  there  is  the  moft  abfolute  neceffity  that 
the  Ruler  of  the  world  fhould  both  be,  and  appear  to 
be,  holy  and  juft.  There  is  the  moft  abfolute  necef- 
fity that  he  fhould  fupport  the  dignity  of  his  govern- 
ment, and  guard  it  from  contempt,  that  he  fhould 
ftrike  all  worlds  with  a  proper  horror  of  fin,  and  re- 
prefent  it  in  its  genuine  infernal  colours,  and  fo  con- 
fult  the  good  of  the  whole,  rather  than  a  part.  There 
is,  I  fay,  the  higheft  and  moft  abfolute  neceffity  for 
thefe  things ;  and  they  cannot  be  difpenfed  with  as 
matters  of  arbitrary  pleafure.  And  unlefs  thefe  ends 
can  be  anfwered  in  the  falvation  of  men,  they  cannot 
be  faved  at  all.  No,  they  muft  all  perifh,  rather  than 
God  fhould  ad  out  of  charader,  as  the  fupreme  Ma- 
giftrate of  the  univerfe,  or  beftow  private  favours  to 
criminals,  to  the  detriment  of  the  public. 

And  in  this  lay  the  difficulty.  Call  a  council  of  all 
the  fages  and  wife  men  of  the  world,  and  they  can  ne- 
ver get  over  this  difficulty,  without  borrowing  affift- 
ance  from  the  gofpel.  Nay,  this,  no  doubt,  puzzled 
all  the  angelic  intelligences,  who  pry  fo  deep  into  the 
myfterles  of  heaven,  before  the  gofpel  was  fully  re- 
vealed. Methinks  the  angels,  when  they  faw  the  fall 
of  man,  gave  him.  up  as  defperate.  "  Alas  !  (they 
cried)  the  poor  creature  is  gone !  he  and  all  his  nu- 
merous race  are  loft  for  ever."  This,  they  knew,  had 
been  the  doom  of  their  fellov/  angels  that  finned ;  and 
could  they  hope  better  for  man  ^.  Then  they  had  not 
f(?en  any  of  the  wonders  of  pardoning  love  and  mercy ; 

and 


Serm.  2.  through  Jefus  Chrift.  113 

and  could  they  have  once  thought  that  that  glorious 
perfon,  who  filled  the  middle  throne,  and  was  their 
Creator  and  Lord,  would  ever  become  a  m.an,  and 
die,  like  a  criminal,  to  redeem  an  inferior  rank  of  crea- 
tures? No,  this  thought  they  would  probably  have 
Ihuddered  at  as  blafphemy. 

And  muft  we  then  give  up  ourfelves  and  all  our 
race  as  loft  beyond  recovery  ?  There  are  huge  and 
feemingly  infuperable  difficulties  in  the  way  ;  and  we 
have  {ttn  that  neither  men  nor  angels  can  prefcribc 
any  relief.  But  fing^  0  ye  heavens^  for  the  Lord  hath 
done  it :  Jhout  ye  lower  parts  of  the  earth :  break  forth 
into  finging^  ye  mountains^  0  forefi^  and  every  tree  there- 
in :  for  the  Lord  hath  redeemed  Jacobs  and  glorified  him- 
felf  in  Ifrael.  Ifaiah  xliv.  23.  Which  leads  me  to 
add, 

II.  •  My  text  implies,  that  through  Jefus  Chrift  a  v/ay 
is  opened  for  your  falvation.  He,  and  he  only  was 
found  equal  to  the  undertaking  •,  and  before  him  ail 
thefe  mountains  became  a  plain  \  all  thefe  difficulties 
vanifh  ;  and  nov/  God  can  be  juft,  can  fecure  the  dig- 
nity of  his  character,  as  the  Ruler  of  the  world,  and 
anfwer  all  the  ends  of  government,  and  yet  juftify  and 
fave  the  finner  that  beliveth  in  Jefus, 

This  is  plainly  implied  in  this  glorious  epitome  of 
the  gofpel :  God  fo  loved  the  worlds  that  he  gave  his 
only  begotten  Son,  that  whofoever  helieveth  in  him  fhould 
not  perifJ?y  but  have  everlafting  life.  Without  this  gift 
all  was  loft:  but  now,  whofoever  be'ieveth  in  him 
may  be  faved  •,  faved  in  a  moft  honourable  v;ay.  This 
will  appear  more  particularly  if  we  confider  the  ten- 
dency the  mediation  of  Chrift  had  to  remove  the  dif- 
ficulties mentioned.  But  I  would  promife  two  gene- 
ral remarks. 

The  firft  is.  That  God  being  confidered  in  this  af- 
fair in  his  public  charadler,  as  fupreme  Magiftrate,  or 
Governor  of  the  world,  all  the  punilhment  which  he 
is  concerned  to  fee  inflidled  upon  fin  is  only  fuch  ar. 
anfwers  the  ends  of  government.     Private  revenge 

Q  muft 


& 


J 14  '^he  Method  of  Salvation  Serm.  2. 

muft  vent  itfelf  on  the  very  perfon  of  the  offender, 
or  be  difappointed.  But  to  a  ruler,  as  fuch,  it  may 
in  fome  cafes  be  indifferent,  whether  the  punifhment 
be  fuftained  by  the  very  perfon  that  offended,  or  by 
a  fubftitute  fuffering  in  his  flead.  It  may  alfo  be  in- 
different whether  the  very  fame  puniffiment,  as  to 
kind  and  degree,  threatened  in  the  law,  be  infiided, 
or  a  punifhment  equivalent  to  it.  If  the  honour  of 
the  ruler  and  his  government  be  maintained,  if  all  dif- 
obedience  be  properly  difcountenanced ;  if,  in  ihort, 
all  the  ends  of  government  can  be  anfwered,  fuch 
things  as  thefe  are  indifferences.  Confequently,  if 
thefe  ends  fhould  be  anfwered  by  Chrift's  fuffering  in 
the  ftead  of  finners,  there  would  be  no  objection  againft 
it.  This  remark  introduces  another,  namely,  (2) 
That  Jefus  Chrift  was  fuch  a  perfon  that  his  fuffering 
as  the  fubftitute  or  furety  of  finners,  anfwered  all  the 
ends  of  government  which  could  be  anfwered  by  the 
execution  of  the  punifhment  upon  the  finners  them- 
felves.  To  impofe  fuffering  upon  the  innocent,  when 
unwilling,  is  unjuftj  but  Jefus  was  vvilling  to  under- 
take the  dreadful  tafk.  And  befides,  he  was  a  perfon 
(fui  juris)  at  his  own  difpofal,  his  own  property,  and 
therefore  he  had  a  right  to  difpofe  of  his  life  as  he 
pleafed  ;  and  there  was  a  merit  in  his  confenting  to  that 
which  he  was  not  obliged  to  previous  to  his  confent. 
Tie  v/as  alfo  ?.  perfon  of  infinite  dignity,  and  infinite- 
ly beloved  by  his  Father ;  and  thefe  confiderations 
rendered  the  merit  of  his  fufferings  for  a  fliort  time, 
and  another  kind  of  punifhment  than  that  of  hell, 
equal,  more  than  equal  to  the  everlafting  fufferings  of 
finners  themfelves.  Jefus  Chrifl  was  alfo  above  law  ; 
that  is,  not  obliged  to  be  fubjeft  to  that  law  which  he 
had  made  for  his  creatures,  and  confequently  his  obe- 
dience to  the  law,  not  being  neceffary  for  himfelf, 
might  be  imputed  to  others :  whereas  creatures  are 
incapable  of  works  of  fupererogation,  or  of  doing 
more  than  they  are  bound  to  ^o^  being  obliged  to 
obey  their  divine  lawgiver  for  themfelves  to  the  utmofl 

extent 


Serm.  2.  through  J efus  Chrift.  115 

extent  of  their  abilities,  and  confequently  their  obe- 
dience, however  perfed,  can  be  fufficient  only  for 
themfelves,  but  cannot  be  imputed  to  others.  Thus 
it  appears,  in  general,  that  the  ends  of  government 
are  as  effedtually  anfwered  by  the  fufferlngs  of  Chrift 
in  the  room  of  linncrs,  as  they  could  be  by  the  ever- 
lafting  punifhment  of  the  iinners  themfelves  ;  nay,  we 
fhall  prefently  find  they  are  anfwered  in  a  more  ftriking 
and  illuftrious  manner.      To  mention  particulars  : 

Was  it  neceflary  that  the  holinefs  and  juftice  of  God 
fhould  be  difplayed  in  the  falvation  of  finners  \  See 
how  bright  they  fhine  in  a  fuffering  Saviour !  Now 
it  appears  that  luch  is  the  holinefs  and  juftice  of  God, 
that  he  will  not  let  even  his  own  Son  efcape  unpunifli- 
ed,  when  he  ftands  in  the  law-place  of  finners,  though 
guilty  only  by  the  flight  ftain  (may  I  fo  fpeak)  of  im- 
putation. Could  the  execution  of  everlafting  punifh- 
ment upon  the  hateful  criminals  themfelves  ever  give 
fo  bright  a  difplay  of  thefe  attributes  ?  It  were  im- 
pofilble.      Again, 

Was  it  a  difficulty  to  fave  finners,  and  yet  maintain 
x)!\^  rights  of  the  divine  government,  and  the  honour 
of  the  law  ?  See  how  this  difiiculty  is  removed  by 
the  obedience  and  death  of  Chrift  !  Now  it  appears, 
that  the  rights  of  the  divine  government  are  fo  facred 
and  inviolable,  that  they  muft  be  maintained,  though 
the  darling  Son  of  God  fhould  falia  facrifice  to  juftice-, 
and  that  not  one  offence  againft  this  government  can 
be  pardoned,  without  his  making  a  full  atonement. 
Now  it  appears,  that  the  fupreme  Ruler  is  not  to  be 
trifled  with,  but  that  his  injured  honour  muft  be  re- 
paired, though  at  the  expence  of  his  Son's  blood  and 
life.  Now,  the  precept  of  the  law  is  perfectly  obey- 
ed in  every  part,  and  a  full  equivalent  to  its  penalty 
endured,  by  a  perfon  of  infinite  dignity ;  and  it  is 
only  upon  this  footing,  that  is,  of  complete  fatisfad:ion 
to  all  the  demands  oi  the  law,  that  any  of  the  rebel- 
lious fons  of  men  can  be  reftored  into  favour.  This 
is  a  fatisfadlion  v/hich  Chrift  alone  could  give :  to  fin- 
ners 


1 16  The  Method  of  Salvation  Serm.  2. 

ners  it  is  utterly  impoffible,  either  by  doing  or  fuffer- 
ing.  They  cannot  do  all  the  things  that  are  written  in. 
the  law  i  nor  can  they  endure  its  penalty,  without  being 
for  ever  miferable :  and  therefore  the  law  has  receiv- 
ed a  more  complete  fatisfadion  in  Chrift  than  it  would 
ever  receive  from  the  offenders  themfelves.    Further, 

Was  it  a  difficulty  how  finners  might  be  faved,  and 
yet  the  evil  of  fin  be  difplayed  in  all  its  horrors  ?  Go 
to  the  crofs  of  Chrift ;  there,  ye  fools  that  make  a 
mock  of  fin,  there  learn  its  malignity,  and  its  hateful- 
nefs  to  the  great  God.  There  you  may  fee  it  is  fo 
great  an  evil,  that  when  it  is  but  imputed  to  the  man 
that  is  God's  fellow,  as  the  furety  of  finners,  it  can- 
not efcape  punifhment.  No,  when  that  dreadful  ftain 
lay  upon  him,  immediately  the  commififion  was  given 
to  divine  juftice,  Azvake  O /word,  againji  7ny  Jhepherd, 
againfi  the  man  that  is  my  fellow >,  faith  the  Lord  of  hofts  \ 
fmite  the  flupherd.  Zech.  xiii.  7. — When  Chrift  ftood 
in  the  room  of  finners,  even  the  Father  fpared  not  his 
own  Son,  but  gave  him  up  to  death.  That  the  cri- 
minals themfelves,  who  are  an  inferior  race  of  crea- 
tures, ftiould  not  efcape  would  not  be  ftrange :  but 
\vhat  an  enormous  evil  muft  that  be,  v/hich  cannot  be 
connived  at  even  in  the  favourite  of  heaven,  the  only 
begotten  Son  of  God  !  Surely  nothing  befides  could 
give  fo  ftriking  a  difplay  of  its  malignity  ! 

Was  it  a  diuiculty  hov/ to  reconcile  the  falvation  of 
finners,  and  the  public  good  .'*  that  is,  how  to  forgive 
iin,  and  yet  give  an  effectual  warning  againft  it  ? 
How  to  receive  the  finner  into  favour,  and  advance 
him  to  the  higheft  honour  and  happinefs,  and  in  the 
mean  time  deter  all  other  beings  from  offending  }  All 
this  is  provided  for  in  the  fufferings  of  Chrift  as  a  fure- 
tv.  Let  all  worlds  look  to  his  crofs,  and  receive  the 
"warning  v/hich  his  wounds,  and  groans,  and  bloody 
and  dying  agonies  proclaim  aloud  •,  and  fure  they  can 
never  dare  to  offend  after  the  example  of  man.  Now 
they  may  fee  that  the  only  inftance  of  pardon  to  be 
fttund  i.i  th^;  univerfe  was  r^t  brought  about  but  by 

fuch 


Serm.  2.  through  J efus  Chrijl.  117 

fuch  means  as  are  not  likely  to  be  repeated  •,  by  the 
incarnation  and  death  of  the  Lord  of  Glory.  And  can 
they  flatter  themfelves  that  he  v/ill  leave  his  throne, 
and  hang  upon  a  crofs,  as  often  as  any  of  his  creatures 
wantonly  dare  to  offend  him  ?  No  •,  fuch  a  miracle 
as  this,  the  utmoft  effort  of  divine  grace,  is  not  often 
to  be  renewed-,  and  therefore,  if  they  dare  to  fin,  it 
is  at  their  peril.  They  have  no  reafon  to  flatter  them- 
felves they  fhall  be  favoured  like  fallen  man ;  but  ra- 
ther to  expeift  they  fhall  fhare  in  the  doom  of  the  fal- 
len angels. 

Or  if  they  fhould  think  iin  may  efcape  with  but  a 
flight  punifhment,  here  they  may  be  convinced  of  the 
contrary.  If  the  Darhng  of  Heaven,  the  Lord  of 
Glory,  though  perfonally  innocent,  fuffers  fo  much 
v/hen  fin  is  but  imputed  to  him,  what  fhall  the  fin- 
ners  themfelves  feel,  who  can  claim  no  favour  upon 
the  footing  of  their  own  importance,  or  perfonal  inno- 
cence ?  "  If  thefe  things  be  done  in  the  green  tree^ 
v/liat  fhall  be  done  in  thcdry  ?" 

Thus,  my  brethren,  you  may  fee  how  a  way  is  o- 
pened  through  Jefus  Chrift  for  our  falvation.  All 
the  ends  of  government  may  be  anfwered,  and  yet 
you  pardoned,  and  made  happy.  Thofe  attributes  of 
the  divine  nature,  fuch  as  mercy  and  juflice,  which 
feemed  to  clafh,  are  now  reconciled-,  now  they  mingle 
their  beams,  and  both  fhine  with  a  brighter  glory  in 
the  falvation  of  finners,  than  either  of  them  could  a- 
part.  And  muft  you  not  acknowledge  this  divine 
God-like  fcheme  ?  Can  you  look  round  you  over  the 
works  of  the  creation,  and  fee  the  divine  wifdom  in 
every  objedl,  and  can  you  not  perceive  the  divine  a- 
gency  in  this  ftill  more  glorious  work  of  redemption  i* 
Redemption,  which  gives  a  full  view  of  the  Deity, 
not  as  the  fun  in  eclipfe,  half  dark,  half  bright,  but  as 

A  God  all  o'er,  confummatc,  abfolute, 

Full  orb'd,  in  his  whole  round  of  rays  complete.       Young. 

And  fhall  not  men  and  angels  join  in  wonder  and 
priiife  at  the  furvey  of  this  amazing  fcheme  ?  Angels 


D 

are 


II 8  The  Method  of  Salvation  Serm.  2. 

are  wrapt  in  wonder  and  praife,  and  will  be  fo  to  all 
eternity.  See  !  how  they  pry  into  this  myftery !  hark, 
how  they  fing  !  "  Glory  to  God  in  the  higheft  ;"  and 
celebrate  the  Lamb  that  was  flain  !  And  iTiall  not 
men,  who  are  pei-fonally  interefted  in  the  affair,  join 
with  them  ?  O  !  are  there  none  to  join  with  them  in 
this  aflembly  ?  Surely,  none  can  refufe ! 

Now,  fince  all  obftriidlions  are  removed  on  God's 
part,  that  lay  in  the  way  of  our  fah'^ation,  why  fliould 
we  not  all  be  faved  together  ?  What  is  there  to  hin- 
der our  crowding  into  heaven  prom ifcuou fly  ?  Or  what 
is  there  requifiie  on  our  part,  in  order  to  make  us 
partakers  of  this  falvation  ?  Here  it  is  proper  to  pafs 
on  to  the  next  truth  inferred  from  the  text,  namely, 

III.  That  the  grand  pre-requifite  to  your  being  fav- 
ed in  this  v/ay,  is  faith  in  Jefus  Chrift.  Though  the 
obflruftions  on  God's  part  are  removed  by  the  death 
of  Chriil:,  yet  there  is  one  remaining  in  the  fmner, 
which  cannot  be  removed  without  his  confent-,  and 
which,  while  it  remains,  renders  his  falvation  impof- 
fible  in  the  nature  of  things  j  that  is,  the  depravity 
and  corruption  of  his  nature.  Till  this  is  cured,  he 
cannot  relilh  thofe  fruitions  and  employments  in  which 
the  happinefs  of  heaven  conf  fts,  and  confequently  he 
cannot  be  happy  there.  Therefore  there  is  a  neceiTity, 
in  the  very  nature  of  things,  that  he  fhould  be  made 
holy,  in  order  to  be  faved;  nay,  his  falvation  itfelf 
confifts  in  holinefs.  Now,  faith  is  the  root  of  all  ho- 
linefs  in  a  finner.  Without  a  firm  realizing  belief  of 
the  great  truths  of  the  gofpel,  it  is  impolfible  a  finner 
fhould  be  fandified  by  their  influence  :  and  without  a 
particular  faith  in  Jefus  Chrift,  he  cannot  drive  from 
him  thofe  fanftifying  influences  by  which  alone  he  can 
be  made  holy,  and  which  are  conveyed  through  Jefus 
Chrift,  and  through  him  alone. 

Further  :  It  v/ould  be  highly  incongruous,  and  in- 
deed impoffible,  to  fave  a  finner  againfh  his  will,  or  in 
a  way  he  diflikcs.  Now,  faith,  as  you  fhail  fee  pre- 
fently,  principally  confifts  in  a  hearty  confent  to  and 

approbation 


Serm.  2.  through  J  ejus  Chriji.  119 

approbation  of  the  way  of  falvation  through  Jefus 
Chrifl,  the  only  way  in  which  a  iinner  can  be  faved 
confidently  with  the  divine  honour ;  fo  that  the  con- 
ftitution  of  the  gofpel  is  not  only  juft,  but  as  merciful 
as  it  can  be,  when  it  ordains,  that  only  he  that  believeth 
Jhall  be  faved  \  hut  that  he  that  believeth  not,  Jhali  be 
damned. 

Again :  V/e  cannot  be  faved  through  Jefus  Chrift, 
till  his  righteoufnefs  be  fo  far  made  ours  as  that  it  will 
anfwer  the  demands  of  the  law  for  us,  and  procure 
the  favour  of  God  to  us  ;  but  his  righteoufnefs  cannot 
be  thus  imputed  to  us,  or  accounted  ours  in  law,  till 
we  are  fo  united  to  him  as  to  be  one  in  law,  or  one 
legal  perfon  with  him.  Now  faith  is  the  bond  of 
union;  faith  is  that  which  interefts  us  in  Chrifl: j  and 
therefore  without  faith  we  cannot  receive  any  benefit 
from  his  righteoufnefs. 

Here  then  a  mod  interefting  inquiry  prefents  itfelf : 
*'  What  is  it  to  believe  in  Jefus  Chrift?  or  what  is 
that  faith  which  is  the  grand  pre-requifite  to  falva- 
tion.'"' If  you  are  capable  of  attention  to  the  moft 
interefting  affair  in  all  the  world,  attend  to  this  with 
the  utmoft  ferioufnefs  and  folemnity. 

Faith  in  Chrift  includes  fomething  fpeculative  in 
it  -,  that  is,  it  includes  a  fpeculative,  rational  belief, 
upon  the  teftimony  of  God,  that  Jefus  Chrift  is  the 
only  Saviour  of  men.  But  yet  it  is  not  entirely  a  fpe- 
culation,  like  the  faith  of  multitudes  among  us  :  it  is 
a  more  pracftical  experimental  thing ;  and  that  you 
may  underftand  its  nature,  you  muft  take  notice  of 
the  following  particulars. 

( I .)  Faith  pre-fuppofes  a  deep  fenfe  of  our  undone, 
helplefs  condition.  I  told  you  before,  this  is  the  con- 
dition of  the  world  without  Chrift  •,  and  you  muft  be 
fenftble  at  heart  that  this  is  your  condition  in  particu- 
lar, before  you  can  believe  in  him  as  your  Saviour. 
He  came  to  be  a  Saviour  in  a  defperate  cafe,  when 
no  relief  could  poflibly  be  had  from  any  other  quarter, 
und  you  cannot  receive  him  under  that  charader  till 

you 


120  The  Method  of  Salvation  Serm.  2." 

you  feel  yourfelves  in  fuch  a  cafe ;  therefore,  in  order 
to  your  believing,  all  your  pleas  and  excufes  for  your 
fins  muil:  be  filenced,  all  your  high  conceit  of  your 
own  goodnefs  muil  be  mortified,  all  your  dependence 
upon  your  own  righteoufnefs,  upon  the  merit  of  your 
prayers,  your  repentance,  and  good  works,  muft  be 
caft  down,  and  you  mufl:  feel  that  indeed  you  lie  at 
mercy,  that  God  may  ]ufl:ly  rejecPc  you  for  ever,  and 
that  all  you  can  do  can  bring  him  under  no  obligation 
to  fave  you.  Thefe  things  you  mull  be  deeply  fenfi- 
ble  of,  otherv/ife  you  can  never  receive  the  Lord 
Jefus  in  that  view  in  which  he  is  propofed  to  you, 
namely,  as  a  Saviour  in  a  defperate  cafe. 

I  wifh  and  pray  you  may  this  day  fee  yourfelves  in 
this  true,  though  mortifying  light.  It  is  the  want  of 
this  {tnk  of  things  that  keeps  fuch  crowds  of  perfons 
unbelievers  among  us.  It  is  the  v/ant  of  this  that 
caufes  the  Lord  Jefus  to  be  fo  little  efteemed,  fo  little 
fought  for,  fo  little  defired  among  us.  In  fhort,  it  is 
the  want  of  this  that  is  the  great  occafion  of  fo  many 
periihing  from  under  the  gofpel,  and,  as  it  were,  from 
between  the  hands  of  a  Saviour.  It  is  this,  alas  ! 
that  caufes  them  to  perifii,  like  the  impenitent  thief 
on  the  crofs,  with  a  Saviour  by  their  fide.  O  that 
you  once  rightly  knew  yourfelves,  you  would  then 
foon  know  Jefus  Chrift,  and  receive  falvation  from 
his  hands  ! 

(2.)  Faith  implies  the  enlightening  of  the  under- 
f^anding  to  difcover  the  fuitablenefs  of  Jefus  Chrill:  as 
a  Saviour,  and  the  excellency  of  the  wav  of  falvation 
through  him.  While  the  finner  lies  undone  and  help- 
lefs  in  himfelf,  and  looking  about  in  vain  for  fome  re- 
lief} it  pleafes  a  gracious  God  to  fliine  into  his  heart, 
and  enable  him  to  fee  his  glory  in  the  face  of  Jefus 
Chrifi:.  Now  this  once  negleded  Saviour  appears  not 
only  abfolutcly  neceffary,  but  alfo  all-glorious  and  love- 
ly, and  the  finner's  heart  is  rapt  away,  and  for  ever 
captivated  with  his  beauty  :  now  the  neglected  gofpel 
appears  in  a  new  light,  as  different  from  all  his   for-- 

mer 


Serm.  2.  through  J efus  Chrifi.  12.1 

mer  apprehenfions  as  if  it  were  quite  another  thing. 
I  have  not  time  at  prefent  to  enlarge  upon  this  difco- 
very  of  Chrifi  and  the  gofpel  which  faith  includes  j 
and  indeed  fhould  I  dwell  upon  it  ever  fo  long,  I  could 
not  convey  juft  ideas  of  it  to  fuch  of  you  as  have  ne- 
ver had  the  happy  experience  of  it.  In  fhort,  the 
Lord  J  efus,  and  the  way  of  falvation  through  him, 
appear  perfedlly  fuitable,  all-fufficient,  and  all-gloricus  •„ 
and  in  confequence  of  this, 

(3.)  The  (inner  is  enabled  to  embrace  this  Saviour 
with  all  his  heart,  and  to  give  a  voluntary  cheerful 
confent  to  this  glorious  fcheme  of  falvation.  Now  all 
his  former  unv*^illingnefs  and  reluftance  are  fubdued, 
and  his  heart  no  m.ore  draws  back  from  the  terms  of 
the  gofpel,  but  he  complies  with  them,  and  that  not 
merely  out  of  conftraint  and  neceflity,  but  out  of  free 
choice,  and  with  the  greateft  pleafure  and  delight. 
How  does  his  heart  now  cling  to  the  bleffed  Jefus 
with  the  moft  affe6tionate  endearment !  How  is  he 
loft  in  wonder,  joy,  and  gratitude  at  the  furvey  of  the 
divine  perfe6tions,  as  difplayed  in  this  method  of  re- 
demption !  How  does  he  rejoice  in  it,  as  not  only 
bringing  happinefs  to  him,  but  glory  to  God  ;  as  m.ak- 
ing  his  falvation  not  only  confiftent  with,  but  a  bright 
illuftration  of,  the  divine  perfed:ions,  and  the  dignity 
of  his  government !  While  he  had  no  other  but  the 
low  and  felfifh  principles  of  corrupt  nature  he  had  no 
concern  about  the  honour  of  God  -,  if  he  might  be 
but  faved  it  was  all  he  was  folicitous  about:  but  now 
he  has  a  noble  generous  iieart  -,  now  he  is  concerned 

o  ... 

that  God  fhould  be  honoured  in  his  falvation,  and  this 
method  of  falvation  is  recommended  and  endeared  to 
him  by  the  thought  that  it  fecures  to  God  the  fupre- 
macy,  and  makes  his  falvation  fubfervient  to  the  divine 
glory. 

(4.)  Faith  in  Jefus  Chrift  implies  a  humble  truft 
or  dependence  upon  him  alone  for  the  pardon  of  fin, 
acceptance  with  God,  and  every  bleffing.  As  I  told 
vou  before,  the  finner's  feif-confidence  is  mortified; 

R  he 


122  '^'he  Method  of  Salvation  Serm.  2. 

he  gives  up  all  hopes  of  acceptance  upon  the  footing 
of  his  own  righteoufnefs :  he  is  filled  v/ith  felf-defpair, 
and  yet  he  does  not  defpair  abfolutely ;  he  does  not 
give  up  himfelf  as  loft,  but  has  cheerful  hopes  of  be- 
coming a  child  of  God,  and  being  for  ever  happy, 
guilty  and  unworthy  as  he  is  j  and  v/hat  are  thefe 
hopes  founded  upon  ?  Why,  upon  the  mere  free 
p-race  and  mercy  of  God,  through  the  righteoufnefs 
of  Jefus  Chrift.  On  this  he  ventures  a  guilty,  un- 
worthy, helplefs  foul,  and  finds  it  a  firm,  immoveable 
foundation,  while  every  other  ground  of  dependence 
proves  but  a  quickfmd.  There  are  many  that  flatter 
themfelvc's  they  put  their  truft  in  God  •,  but  their  truft 
wants  fundry  qualifications  eflential  to  a  true  faith.  It 
is  not  the  truft  of  a  humble  helplefs  foul  that  draws 
all  its  encouragerhent  from  the  mere  mercy  of  God, 
and  the  free  indefinite  offer  of  the  gofpel  ^  but  it  is 
the  prefumptuous  truft  of  a  proud  felf-confident  fin- 
ner,  who  draws  his  encouragement  in  part  at  leaft 
from  his  own  imaginary  goodnefs  and  importance.  It 
is  not  a  truft  in  the  mercy  of  God  through  Jefus  Chrift, 
as  the  only  medium  through  which  it  can  be  honour- 
ably conveyed-,  but  either  in  the  abfolute  mercy  of 
God,  which,  without  a  proper  reference  to  a  Mediator, 
or  in  his  mercy,  as  in  fome  meafure  deferved  or  mov- 
ed by  fomething  in  the  finner.  Examine  v/hether  your 
truft  in  God  will  ftand  this  teft. 

I  have  now  given  you  a  brief  anfwer  to  that  grand 
queftion.  What  is  it  to  believe  in  Jefus  Chrift  ?  and  I 
hope  you  underftand  it,  though  I  have  not  enlarged 
fo  much  upon  it  as  I  willingly  would.  I  fhall  only 
add,  that  this  faith  may  alfo  be  known  by  its  infepara- 
ble  effeds  -,  which  are  fuch  as  follow.  Faith  purifies 
the  heart,  and  is  a  lively  principle  of  inward  holinefs. 
Faith  is  always  produdive  of  good  works,  and  leads 
us  to  univerfd  obedience  :  faith  overcomes  the  world 
and  all  its  temptations :  faith  realizes  eternal  things, 
and  brings  them  near  •,  and  hence  it  is  defined  by  the 
apoftle,  1'he  fuhfiance  of  things  hoped  for ^  and  the  evi- 
dence 


Serrn.  2.  through  J eJuPChrifi.  i2j 

dence  of  ihmgs  not  feen.  Heb.  xi.  i.  Here  I  have  a 
very  important  queftion  to  propofe  to  you  :  Who 
among  you  can  fay,  "  Well,  notwithftanding  all  my 
imperfeilions,  and  all  my  doubts  and  fears,  I  cannot 
but  humbly  hope,  after  the  beft  examination  I  can 
make,  that  fuch  a  faith  has  been  produced  in  this 
heart  of  mine?"  And  can  you  fay  fo  indeed  ?  Then 
I  bring  you  glad  tidings  of  great  joy ;  you  fhall  be 
faved :  yes,  faved  you  Ihall  be,  in  fpite  of  earth  and 
hell ;  faved,  however  great  your  paft  fins  have  been. 
Which  thought  introduces  the  glorious  truth  that 
comes  next  in  order,  namely, 

IV.  My  text  implies,  that  every  one,  Vvithout  ex- 
ception, whatever  his  former  charadter  has  been,  tliat 
is  enabled  to  believe  in  Jefus  Chrift,  fhall  certainly  be 
faved. 

The  number  or  aggravations  of  iin  do  not  alter  the 
cafe ;  and  the  reafon  is,  the  finner  is  not  received  into 
favour,  in  whole  or  in  part,  upon  the  account  of  any 
thing  perfonal,  but  folely  and  entirely  upon  the  account 
of  the  righteoufnefs  of  Jefus  Chrift.  Now,  this 
righteoufnefs  is  perfectly  equal  to  all  the  demands  of 
the  law ;  and  therefore,  when  this  righteoufnefs  is 
made  over  to  the  finner  as  his  by  imputation,  the  law 
has  no  more  demands  upon  him  for  great  fins  than  for 
fmall,  for  many  than  for  few  •,  becaufe  all  demands 
are  fully  fatisfied  by  the  obedience  of  Jefus  Chrift  to 
the  law.  You  fee  that  finners  of  all  charac5lcrs  who 
believe  in  him  are  put  upon  an  equality  in  this  refped : 
they  are  all  admitted  upon  one  common  fpoting,  the 
righteoufnefs  of  Chrift ;  and  that  is  as  fufficient  for 
one  as  another. 

This  encouraging  truth  has  the  moft  abundant  fup- 
port  from  the  holy  fcriptures,  Obferve  the  agreeable 
indefinite  whofoevcr  fo  often  repeated.  "  Whofoever 
believeth  in  him,  fhall  not  perifli,  but  have  everlaft- 
ing  life."  Vvhcfcever  he  be,  however  vile,  however 
guilty,  however  unworthy,  if  he  does  but  believe, 
he  fhall  not  perifh,  but  have  everlafting  life.     What 


124  Ihe  Meihod  cf  Sahation  Serm.  2. 

an  agreeable  afiurance  is  this  from  the  lips  of  him  who 
has  the  final  dates  of  men  at  his  difpofal !  The  fame 
blefied  lips  have  alfo  declared.  Him  that  cometh  unto  me 
I  will  in  no  wife  caji  out.  John  vi.  i,y.  And  Whofoever 
will.,  let  him  take  the  water  of  life  freely.  Rev.  xxil.  1 7. 
He  has  given  you  more  than  bare  words  to  eftablifh 
you  in  the  belief  of  this  truth  :  upon  this  principle  he 
has  acfled,  choofing  fome  of  the  moil  abandoned  fin- 
ners  to  make  them  examples,  not  of  his  juftice,  as  we 
might  expeft,  but  of  his  mercy,  for  the  encourage- 
ment of  others.  In  the  days  of  his  flefti  he  was  re- 
proached by  his  enemies  for  his  friendfhip  to  publicans 
and  fmners  ;  but  fure  it  is,  inftead  of  reproaching,  we 
muft  love  him  on  this  account.  When  he  rofe  from 
the  dead  he  did  not  rife  with  angry  refentment  againft 
his  murderers  j  no,  but  he  fmgles  them  out  from  a 
world  of  finners,  to  make  them  the  firft  offers  of  par- 
don through  the  blood  which  they  had  juil;  ftied.  He 
orders  that  repentance  and  rer/iiffion  of  fins  fjoitld  be 
preached  in  his  name  to  all  nations.,  beginning  at  Jerufa- 
lem.  Luke  xxiv.  47.  At  Jerufalem,  where  he  had 
been  crucified  a  few  days  before,  there  he  orders  the 
firfi:  publication  of  pardon  and  life  to  be  made.  You 
may  fee  what  momlers  of  fin  he  chofe  to  make  the 
monuments  of  his  grace  in  Corinth.  Neither  fornica- 
tors^ nor  idolaters.,  nor  adulterers.,  nor  effeminate,  nor 
nbufers  of  themfehes  with  mankind,  nor  thieves,  nor 
£0"jelous,  nor  drunkards,  nor  revilers,  nor  'extortioners, 
jijall  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God.  What  a  difmal  cata- 
logue is  this  !  It  is  no  wonder  fuch  a  crew  fhould 
not  inherit  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  they  are  fit  only 
for  the  infernal  prifon  •,  and  yet,  aftonifhing  !  it  fol- 
lows, yi<:fi?  W(?r^  T^?;;;^  ofyou',  but  ye  are  waped,  but  ye 
ure  fan5iijied^  but  ye  are  jiiftified  in  the  name  of  the  Lord 
Jefus,  and  by  the  fpirit  of  our  God.  i  Cor.  vi.  9 — 11. 
What  finner  after  this  can  defpair  of  mercy  upon  his 
believing  in  Jefus  !  St.  Paul  was  another  inftance  of 
the  fame  kind:  "  This,"  fays  he,  "  is  a  faithful  fay- 
jingi"  a  faying  that  may  be  depended  on  as  true,  *'  and 

worthy 


Serm.  2.  through  J efus  Chrij},  125 

worthy  of  all  acceptation,"  from  a  guilty  world,  that 
Chriji  J  efus  came  into  the  zvorld  to  Jave  fmners^  of  whom 
J  am  chief :  howbeit,  for  this  caufe  I  obtained  mercy ^  that 
in  me  the  chief,  Jefus  Chriji  might  jhe-w  forth  all  long- 
fuffering,  for  a  fat  tern  to  them  which  fhould  hereafter  be- 
lieve  in  hitn  to  life  everlafting.  i  Tim.  i.  15,  16.  A 
iinner  of  lefs  fize  would  not  have  anfwered  this  end  fo 
well ;  but  if  Saul  the  perfecutor  obtains  mercy  upon 
his  believing,  who  can  defpair  ? 

You  fee  upon  the  whole,  my  brethren,  you  are  not 
excluded  from  Chrift  and  life  by  the  greatnefs  of  your 
fins  ',  but  if  you  perifh  it  muft  be  from  another  caufe  ; 
it  muft  be  on  account  of  your  wilful  unbelief  in  not 
accepting  of  Jefus  Chrift  as  your  Saviour.  If  you 
fejeft  him,  then  indeed  you  muft  periih,  however 
fmall  your  fins  have  been  ;  for  it  is  only  his  death  that 
can  make  atonement  for  the  flighteft  guilt  •,  and  if  you 
have  no  intereft  in  that,  the  guilt  of  the  fmalleft  fin 
will  fink  you  into  ruin. 

Here  is  a  door  v/ide  enough  for  you  all,  if  you  will 
but  enter  in  by  faith.  Come  then,  enter  in,  you  that 
have  hitherto  claimed  an  horrid  precedence  in  fin,  that 
have  been  ringleaders  in  vice,  come  now  take  the  lead, 
and  fiiew  others  the  way  to  Jefus  Chrift  •,  harlots,  pub- 
licans, thieves,  and  murderers,  if  fuch  be  among  you, 
there  is  falvation  even  for  you,  if  you  will  but  believe. 
O !  how  aftonifhing  is  the  love  of  God  difcovered  in 
this  vv'ay :  a  confideration  which  introduces  the  laft 
inference  from  my  text,  namely, 

V.  That  the  conftitution  of  this  method  of  falva- 
tion, or  the  miffion  of  a  Saviour  into  our  world,  is  a 
moft  ftriking  and  aftonlfiiing  difplay  of  the  love  of 
God :- — God  fo  loved  the  world  as  to  give  his  only  begotten 
Son,  &CC. 

View  the  fcheme  all  through,  and  you  will  difcover 
love,  mfinite  love,  in  every  part  of  it.  Confider  the 
great  God  as  felf-happy  and  independent  upon  all  his 
creatures,  and  what  but  love,  felf-moved  love,  could 
excite  h:m  to  make  fuch  provifion  for  an  inferior  part 

of 


tl6  The  Method  of  Salvation  Serm.  2. 

of  them !  Confider  the  world  funk  in  fin,  not  only 
without  merit,  but  mod:  deferving  of  everlafting  pu- 
nifhment,  and  what  but  love  could  move  him  to  have 
mercy  upon  fuch  a  world  ?  Confider  the  Saviour 
provided,  not  an  angel,  not  the  higheft  creature,  but 
his  Son,  his  only  begotten  Son ;  and  what  but  love 
could  move  him  to  appoint  fuch  a  Saviour  ?  Confider 
the  manner  in  which  he  was  fent,  as  a  gift,  a  free 
unmerited  gift ;  "  God  gave  his  only  begotten  Son  :" 
And  v/hat  but  infinite  love  could  give  fuch  an  unfpeak- 
able  gift?  Confider  the  bleffmgs  conferred  through 
this  Saviour,  deliverance  from  perdition  and  the  enjoy- 
ment of  everlafting  life,  and  what  but  the  love  of  God 
could  confer  fuch  bleflings  ?  Confider  the  condition 
upon  which  thefe  blefTmgs  are  offered,  faith,  that 
humble,  felf-emptied  grace,  (o  fuitable  to  the  circum- 
ftances  of  a  poor  finner,  that  brings  nothing  but  re- 
ceives all,  and  what  but  divine  love  could  make  fuch 
a  gracious  appointment  ?  //  is  by  faith ^  that  it  may 
he  of  grace.  Rom.  iv.  1 6.  Confider  the  indefinite  ex- 
tent, or  the  univerfality  of  the  offer,  which  takes  m 
finners  of  the  vilefl  charaiters,  and  excepts  againit 
none:  PFhofoever  believeth  Jhallnot  perifh^  ^c.  O  what 
love  is  this  !  But  I  muft  leave  it  as  the  theme  of  your 
meditations,  not  only  in  the  houfe  of  your  pilgrimage, 
but  through  all  eternity:  eternity  will  be  fhort  enough 
to  pry  into  this  myftery,  and  it  will  employ  the  under- 
llandings  of  men  and  angels  through  the  revolutions 
of  eternal  ao-es. 

And  now,  my  brethren,  to  draw  tov/ards  a  conclu- 
fion,  I  would  hold  a  treaty  with  you  this  day  about 
the  reconciliation  to  God  through  Jefus  Chrift.  I  have 
this  day  fet  life  and  death  before  you  :  I  have  opened 
to  you  the  method  of  faivation  through  Jefus  Chrifl; 
the  only  method  in  which  you  can  be  faved ;  the  only 
method  that  could  afford  a  gleam  of  hope  to  fuch  a 
iinner  as  I  in  my  late  approach  to  the  eternal  world.* 

And 

*  This  fermon  was  preached  a  little  afrer  recovery  from  a  feverf 
fit  of  ficknefs,  and  it  is  dated  Kanover,   Ofl,  2,  1757. 


Serm.  2.  through  J eftis  Chrift,     '  127 

And  now  I  would  bring  the  matter  home,  and  pro- 
pofe  it  to  you  all  to  confent  to  be  faved  in  this  method, 
or,  in  other  words,  to  believe  in  the  only  begotten 
Son  of  God  ;  this  propofal  I  ferioufly  make  to  you  ; 
and  let  heaven  and  earth,  and  your  own  confciences, 
witnefs  that  it  is  made  to  you  •,  I  alfo  iniift  for  a  deter- 
minate anfwer  this  day  ;  the  m^atter  will  not  admit  of 
a  delay,  and  the  duty  is  fo  plain,  that  there  is  no  need 
of  time  to  deliberate.  A  Roman  ambafiador,  treat- 
ing about  peace  with  the  ambaffador  of  a  neighbour- 
ing ftate,  if  I  remember  rightly,  and  finding  him  de- 
firous  to  gain  time  by  fhuiHing  and  tedious  negocia- 
tions,  drew  a  circle  about  him,  and  faid,  "  I  demiand 
an  anfwer  before  you  go  out  of  this  circle." — Such  a 
circle  let  the  walls  of  this  houfe,  or  the  extent  of  my 
voice,  be  to  you :  before  you  leave  this  houfe,  or  go 
out  of  hearing,  I  infift  on  a  full  decifive  anfv/er  to  this 
propofal.  Whether  you  will  believe  in  Jefus  Clirifl 
this  day  or  not  ? 

But  before  I  proceed  any  farther,  I  would  remove 
one  ftumbling-block  out  of  your  way.  You  are  apt 
to  objed,  "  You  teach  us  that  faith  is  the  gift  of  God, 
and  that  we  cannot  believe  of  ourfelves  ;  why  then  do 
you  exhort  us  to  it  .^  or  how  can  we  be  concerned  to 
endeavour  that  which  it  is  impoflible  for  us  to  do  ?'* 

In  anfv/er  to  this,  I  grant  the  premifes  are  true ; 
and  God  forbid  I  fhould  fo  much  as  intimate  that  faith 
is  the  fpontaneous  grovv'th  of  corrupt  nature,  or  tRat 
you  can  come  to  Chrift  without  the  Father's  drawing 
you  :  but  the  conclufions  you  draw  from  thefe  pre- 
mifes are  very  erroneous.  I  exhort  and  perfuade  you 
to  believe  in  Jefus  Chrift,  becaufc  it  is  while  fuch 
means  are  ufed  vvith  finners,  and  by  the  ufe  of  them, 
that  it  pleafes  God  to  enable  them  to  comply,  or  to 
work  faith  in  them.  I  would  therefore  ufe  thofe  means 
which  God  is  pleafed  to  blefs  for  this  end.  I  exhort 
you  to  believe,  in  order  to  fet  you  upon  the  trial ;  for 
it  is  putting  it  to  trial,  and  that  only,  which  can  fully 
convince  you  of  your  own  inability  to  believe;  and 

till 


128  The  Method  of  Salvation  Serm.  2; 

till  you  are  convinced  of  this,  you  can  never  exped 
ftrength  from  God.  I  exhort  you  to  believe,  becaufe, 
{inful  and  enfeebled  as  you  are,  you  are  capable  of 
ufing  various  preparatives  to  faith.  You  may  attend 
upon  prayer,  hearing,  and  all  the  outward  means  of 
grace  with  natural  ferioufnefs  ;  you  may  endeavour  to 
get  acquainted  with  your  own  helplefs  condition,  and, 
as  it  were,  put  yourfelves  in  the  way  of  divine  mercy  ; 
and  though  all  thefe  means  cannot  of  themfelves  pro- 
duce faith  in  you,  yet  it  is  only  in  the  ufe  of  thefe 
means  you  are  to  expefl:  divine  grace  to  work  it  in 
you :  never  was  it  yet  produced  in  one  foul,  while 
lying  fupine,  lazy,  and  inactive. 

I  hope  you  now  fee  good  reafons  why  I  ihould  ex- 
hort you  to  believe,  and  alfo  perceive  my  delign  in  it ; 
I  therefore  renew  the  propofal  to  you,  that  you  jfhould 
this  day,  as  guilty,  unworthy,  felf-defpairing  finners, 
accept  of  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God  as  your  Savi- 
our, and  fall  in  with  the  gofpel-method  of  falvation ; 
and  I  once  more  demand  your  anfwer.  I  would  by 
no  means,  if  polTible,  leave  the  pulpit  this  day  till  I 
have  effedlually  recommended  the  blefled  Jefus,  my 
Lord  and  Mafter,  to  your  acceptance.  I  am  ftrongly 
bound  by  the  vows  and  refolutions  of  a  fick  bed  to 
recommend  him  to  you  ;  and  now  I  would  endeavour 
to  perform  my  vows.  I  would  have  us  all  this  day 
before  we  part  confent  to  God*s  covenant,  that  v/e  may 
go  away  juftified  to  our  houfes. 

To  this  I  perfuade  and  exhort  you,  in  the  name 
and  by  the  authority  of  the  great  God,  by  the  death 
of  Jefus  Chrift  for  finners,  by  your  own  moft  urgent 
and  abfolute  neceffity,  by  the  immenfe  blefTmgs  pro- 
pofed  in  the  gofpel,  and  by  the  heavy  curfe  denounc- 
ed againft  unbelievers. 

All  the  bleifings  of  the  gofpel,  pardon  of  fin,  fandli- 
fying  grace,  eternal  life,  and  whatever  you  can  want, 
fhall  become  yours  this  day,  if  you  but  believe  in  the 
Son  of  God  :  then  let  defolation  over-run  our  land,' 
let  public  and  private  calamities  crowd  upon  you,  and 

make 


Serm.  2.  through  J efiis  Chriji.  129 

make  you  fo  many  Jobs  for  poverty  and  afflidlon, 
flill  your  main  intereft  is  fecure ;  the  ftornis  and 
waves  of  trouble  can  only  bear  you  to  heaven,  and 
liaften  your  paflage  to  the  harbour  of  eternal  reft.  Let 
devils  accufe  you  before  God,  let  confcience  indift 
you  and  bring  you  in  guilty,  let  the  fiery  law  make  its 
demands  upon  you,  you  have  a  righteoufnefs  in  Jefus 
Chrift  that  is  iufficient  to  anfwer  all  demands,  and, 
having  received  it  by  faith,  you  may  plead  it  as  your 
own  in  law.  Happy  fouls  !  rejoice  in  hope  of  the  glory 
of  God,  for  your  hope  will  never  make  you  afhamed  ! 

But  I  expedl,  as  ufual,  fome  of  you  will  refufe  to 
comply  with  this  propofal.  This,  alas !  has  been 
the  ufual  fate  of  the  bleifed  gofpel  in  all  ages  and  in 
all  countries ;  as  fome  have  received  it,  \o  fome  have 
rejedled  it.  That  old  complaint  of  Ifaiah  has  been 
juftly  repeated  thoufands  of  times;  Who  hath  believed 
our  report?  and  to  whom  is  the  arm  of  the  Lord  reveal- 
ed? Ifai.  liii.  i.  And  is  there  no  reafon  to  pour  it 
out  from  a  broken  heart  over  fome  of  you,  my  dear 
people !  Are  you  all  this  day  determined  to  believe  ? 
If  fo,  I  pronounce  you  blelTed  in  the  name  of  the  Lord; 
but  if  not,  I  muft  denounce  your  doom. 

Be  it  known  to  you  then  from  the  living  God,  tliat 
if  you  thus  continue  in  unbelief,  you  fhut  the  door 
of  micrcy  againfh  yourfelves,  and  exclude  yourfelves 
from  eternal  life.  Whatever  fplendid  appearances  of 
virtue,  v/hatever  amiable  qualities,  whatever  feeming 
good  works  you  have,  the  exprefs  fentence  of  the  gof- 
pel lies  in  full  force  agalnft  you,  He  that  believeth  not 
(hall  he  damned.  Mark  xvi.  16.  He  that  believeth  not 
is  condemned  already ^  hecaufe  he  hath  not  believed  on  the 
only  begotten  Son  of  God.  John  iii.  1 8.  He  that  believeth 
not  fljall  not  fee  life  •,  hut  the  vorath  of  God  ahideth  upon 
him.  John  iii.  36.  This  is  your  doom  repeatedly 
pronounced  by  him  whom  you  muft  own  to  be  the 
beft  friend  of  human  nature  ;  and  if  he  condemn,  who 
can  juftify  you  1 

S  Be 


130  The  Mel  hod  of  Salvation,  &CC.         Serm.  2. 

Be  it  alfo  known  to  you,  that  you  will  not  only 
perifh,  but  you  will  perifh  with  peculiar  aggravations ; 
you  will  fall  with  no  common  ruin  ;  you  will  envy  the 
lot  of  heathens  who  perifhed  without  the  law  :  for  O  ! 
you  incur  the  peculiarly  enormous  guilt  of  rejeding 
the  gofpel,  and  putting  contempt  upon  the  Son  of 
God.  This  is  an  horrid  exploit  of  wickednefs,  and 
this  God  refents  above  all  the  other  crimes  of  which 
human  nature  is  incapable.  Hence  Chrift  is  come  for 
judgment  as  Vv?ell  as  for  mercy  into  this  world,  and  he 
is  fet  for  the  fall  as  well  as  the  rifing  again  of  many  in 
Ifrael.  You  now  enjoy  the  light  of  the  gofpel,  which 
has  conduded  many  through  this  dark  world  to  eter- 
nal day  ;  but  remember  alfo,  ihis  is  the  condemnation ; 
that  is,  it  is  the  occafion  of  the  moil  aggravated  con- 
demnation, that  light  is  come  into  the  -worlds  and  men 
love  darknefs  rather  than  light.  On  this  principle  Jcfus 
pronounced  the  doom  of  Chorazin  and  Bethfaida  more 
intolerable  than  that  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah.  Matth. 
xi.  21,  22.  And  would  it  not  be  hard  to  find  a  place 
in  Virginia  where  the  doom  of  unbelievers  is  likely 
to  be  fo  terrible  as  among  us  ? 

And  now  does  not  all  this  move  you  ?  Are  you 
not  alarmed  at  the  thought  of  perifhing  •,  of  perifh- 
ing  by  the  hand  of  a  Saviour  rejedled  and  defpifed; 
perifhing  under  the  ftain  of  his  profaned  blood  -,  pe- 
rifhing not  only  under  the  curfe  of  the  law,  but  un- 
der that  of  the  gofpel,  which  is  vaftly  heavier  ?  O ! 
are  you  hardy  enough  to  venture  upon  fuch  a  doom ! 
This  doom  is  unavoidable  if  you  refufe  to  comply 
with  the  propofal  now  made  to  you. 

I  muft  now  conclude  the  treaty ;  but  for  my  own 
acquittance,  I  muft  take  witnefs  that  I  have  endea- 
voured to  difcharge  my  commifTion,  whatever  recep- 
tion you  give  it.  I  call  heaven  and  earth,  and  your 
own  confciences  to  v/itnefs,  that  life  and  falvation, 
through  Jefus  Chrift,  have  been  offered  to  you  on 
this  day  ;  and  if  you  rejedt  it,  remember  it;  remem- 
ber it  whenever  you  fee  this  place  j  remember  it  when- 
ever 


Serm.  3«  Sinners  infreated,  Sec.  131 

ever  you  fee  my  face,  or  one  another  ;  remember  it, 
that  you  may  witnefs  for  me  at  the  fupreme  tribunal 
that  I  am  clear  of  your  blood.  Alas  !  you  will  re- 
member it  among  a  thoufand  painful  refled:ions  mil- 
lions of  ages  hence,  when  the  remembrance  of  it 
will  rend  your  hearts  like  a  vulture.  Many  fermons 
forgotten  upon  earth  are  remembered  in  hell,  and 
haunt  the  guilty  mind  for  ever.  O  that  you  would 
believe,  and  fo  prevent  this  dreadful  efFeft  from  the 
prefent  fermon ! 


SERMON     III. 

Sinners  intreated  to  be  reconciled  to  God. 


2  CoR.  v.  20.  fVe  then  are  ambaj/'adors  for  Chriji^ 
as  though  God  did  befeech  you  by  us :  we  pray  you  in 
Chriji^s  Jlead,  be  ye  reconciled  to  God. 

TO  prefide  in  the  folemnities  of  puHic  worfhip,  to 
dire<5l  your  thoughts,  and  choofe  for  you  the 
fubjeds  of  your  meditation  on  thofe  facred  hours 
which  you  fpend  in  the  houfe  of  God,  and  upon  the 
right  improvement  of  which  your  everlafting  happi- 
nefs  fo  much  depends,  this  is  a  province  of  the  moft 
tremendous  importance  that  can  be  devolved  upon  a 
mortal ;  and  every  man  of  the  facred  charafter,  who 
knows  what  he  is  about,  muft  tremble  at  the  thought, 
and  be  often  anxioufly  perplexed  what  fubjeft  he  Ihall 
choofe,  what  he  fhall  fay  upon  it,  and  in  what  manner 
he  fhall  deliver  his  meflage.  His  fuccefs  in  a  great 
meafjre  depends  upon  his  choice ;  for,  though  the 
bleffed  Spirit  is  the  proper  agent,  and  though  the  beft 
means,  without  his  efficacious  concurrence,  are  alto- 
gether fruitlefs,  yet  he  is  wont  to  blefs  thofe  means 
that  are  beft  adapted  to  do  good ;  and  after  a  long 
courfe  of  languid  and  fruitlefs  efforts,  which  feem  to 

have 


i32  Sinners  intreatcd  to  Serm.  3. 

have  been  unufaally  difowned  by  my  divine  Mafter, 
v/hat  text  fhall  I  choofe  out  of  the  inexhauftible  treafure 
of  God's  word  ?  In  what  new  method  fhall  I  fpeak 
upon  it  ?  What  new  untried  experiments  (hall  I  make  ? 
Blefied  Jefus !  my  heavenly  Mafter  !  dired:  thy  poor 
perplexed  fervant  who  is  at  a  lofs,  and  knows  not 
what  to  do  ;  direft  him  that  has  tried,  and  tried  again, 
all  the  expedients  he  could  think  of,  but  almoft  in 
vain,  and  now  fcarcely  knows  what  it  is  to  hope  for 
fuccefs  !  Divine  direction,  my  brethren,  has  been 
fought ;  and  may  I  hope  it  is  that  which  has  turned 
my  mind  to  addrefs  you  this  day  on  the  important  fub- 
^Q6t  of  your  reconciliation  to  God,  and  to  become  an 
humble  imitator  of  the  great  St.  Paul,  whofe  affeft- 
ing  words  I  have  read  to  you.  IVe  then  are  ambajfa- 
dorsfor  Chriji^  as  though  God  did  befeech  you  by  us :  'we 
^r  ay  you  in  Chrijl^sfiead,  be  ye  reconciled  to  God. 

The  introduction  to  this  paflage  you  find  in  the 
foregoing  verfes,  God  hath  given  to  us  (the  apof^Ies) 
the  minijiiy  cf  reconciliation  ;  the  fum  and  fubftance  of 
Vv^hich  is,  nam.ely,  "  That  God  v/as  in  Clirift  recon- 
ciling the  world  unto  himfelf,  not  imputing  their  tref- 
palles  unto  them."  As  if  he  had  faid,  "  The  great 
Sovereign  of  the  univerfe,  though  highly  provoked, 
and  juftly  difpleafed  with  our  rebellious  world,  has 
been  fo  gracious  as  to  contrive  a  plan  of  reconciliation, 
whereby  they  may  not  only  efcape  the  punilhment  they 
deferve,  but  alfo  be  reftored  to  the  favour  of  God, 
and  all  the  privileges  of  his  favourite  fubjedcs.  This 
plan  v*-a3  laid  in  Chrill:  •,  that  is,  it  was  he  who  was  ap- 
pointed, and  undertook  to  remove  all  obftacles  out  of 
the  way  of  their  reconciliation,  fo  that  it  might  becon- 
fiftent  with  tlie  honour  and  dignity  of  God  and  his  go- 
vernment. This  he  performed  by  a  life  of  perfedt 
obedience  and  an  atoning  death,  inftead  of  rebellious 
man.  ThouQ-h  *'  he  knew  no  fin"  of  his  own  -,  yet 
"  he  was  made  C-iw,^'  that  is,  a  fin-of^'ering,  or  a  fin- 
fier  by  imputation  "  for  us,"  that  we  maght  "  be 
piade  the  rin:hteoufnefs  of  God  in  him."     Thus  all 

liindrances 


Serm.  3«  he  reconciled  to  God.  j^Z 

hindrances  are  removed  on  God's  part.  The  plan  of 
a  treaty  of  reconciliation  is  formed,  approved,  and  ra- 
tified in  the  court  of  heaven  ;  but  then  it  muft  be  pub- 
lifhed,  all  the  terms  made  known,  and  the  confent  of 
the  rebels  folicited  and  gained.  It  is  not  enough  that 
all  impediments  to  peace  are  removed  on  God's  part ; 
they  muft  alfo  be  removed  on  the  part  of  man :  the 
reconciliation  muft  be  mutual;  both  the  parties  muft 
agree.  Hence  arifes  the  neceffity  of  the  miniftry  of 
reconciliation  which  was  committed  to  the  apoftles, 
thofe  prime  minifters  of  the  kingdom  of  Chrift,  and 
in  a  lower  fphere  to  the  ordinary  minifters  of  the  gof- 
pel  in  every  age.  The  great  bufinefs  of  their  office  is 
to  publifti  the  treaty  of  peace  •,  that  is,  the  articles  of 
reconciliation,  and  to  ufe  every  motive  to  gain  the 
confent  of  mankind  to  thefe  articles.  It  is  this  office 
St.  Paul  is  difcharging,  when  he  fays.  We  are  ambajfa- 
dors  for  Chrift.,  as  though  God  did  befeech  you  by  us  :  we 
pray  you  in  Chrift^ s  ftead.,  be  ye  reconciled  to  God. 

We  are  ambajj'adors  for  Chrift.  The  proper  notion 
of  an  ambafiador,  is  that  of  a  perfon  fent  by  a  king 
to  tranfci'il  affairs  in  his  name,  and  according  to  his 
inftru(5lions,  with  foreign  ftates,  or  part  of  his  fub- 
jefls,  to  whom  he  does  not  think  proper  to  go  himfelf 
and  treat  with  them  in  his  own  perfon.  Thus  a  peace 
is  generally  concluded  between  contending  nations, 
not  by  their  kings  in  perfon,  but  by  their  plenipoten- 
tiaries ailing  in  their  name,  and  by  their  authority  ; 
and,  while  they  keep  to  their  inftrudtions,  their  nego- 
tiations and  agreements  are  as  valid  and  authentic  as 
if  they  were  carried  on  and  concluded  by  their  mafters 
in  perfon.  Thus  the  Lord  Jefus  Chrift  is  not  perfon- 
aily  prefent  in  our  world  to  manage  the  treaty  of  peace 
himfelf,  but  he  has  appointed  hrft  his  apoftles,  and 
then  the  minifters  of  the  gofpei  through  every  age,  to 
carry  it  on  in  his  name.  This  is  their  proper  charafter : 
tliey  are  ambaffadors  for  Chrift,  his  plenipotentiaries, 
furniftied  with  a  commiffion  and  inftruc5lions  to  make 

overtures 


■  •j4  Sinners  inireated  to  Serrn.  3. 

overtures  of  reconciliation  to  a  rebel  world,  and  treat 
with  them  to  gairx  their  confent. 

Indeed,  afpiring  ecclefiartics  have  aPiumed  high- 
founding  titles  merely  to  procure  extravagant  honours 
to  themfelves.  They  have  called  themfeives  ambaf- 
fadors  of  Ci'irift,  meffengers  from  God,  the  plenipo- 
tentiaries and  viceroys  of  heaven,  and  I  know  not 
what,  not  with  a  defign  to  do  honour  to  their  Mafter, 
but  to  keep  the  world  in  a  fuperftitious  awe  of  them- 
felves. This  prieftly  pride  and  infolence  I  utterly  ab- 
hor ;  and  yet  I  humbly  adventure  to  afliime  the  title 
of  an  amballador  of  the  great  King  of  heaven,  and 
require  you  to  regard  me  in  this  high  chara6ter :  but 
then  you  muft  know,  that  while  I  am  making  this 
claim,  I  own  myfelf  obliged  inviolably  to  adhere  to 
the  inftrudions  of  my  divine  Mafter  contained  in  the 
Bible,  I  have  no  power  over  your  faith  ;  no  power  to 
dictate  or  prefcribe ;  but  my  v/ork  is  only  juft  to  pub- 
lifh  the  articles  of  peace  as  my  Mafter  has  eftabliftied 
and  revealed  them  in  his  word,  without  the  leaft  addi- 
tion, diminution,  or  alteration.  I  pretend  to  no  higher 
power  than  this,  and  this  power  I  muft  claim,  unlefs 
I  would  renounce  my  office ;  for  who  can  conftftently 
profefs  himfelf  a  minifter  of  Chrift  without  allerting  his 
right  and  power  to  pubiifti  what  his  Lord  has  taught, 
and  communicate  his  royal  inftrudions  ? 

Therefore,  without  ufurping  an  equality  with  St. 
Paul,  or  his  fellow  apoftles,  I  muft  tell  you  in  his 
language,  I  appear  among  you  this  day  as  the  ambaf- 
fador  of  the  moft  high  God-,  I  am  dn^charging  an  em- 
bafty  for  Chrift* ;  and  I  tell  you  this  with  no  other 
defign  than  to  procure  your  moft  ferious  regard  to 
what  I  fay.  If  you  conftder  it  only  as  my  declaration, 
whatever  regard  you  pay  to  it,  the  end  of  my  minif- 
try  will  not  be  anfvsrered  upon  you.  The  end  of  my 
office  is  not  to  make  myfelf  the  objecft  of  your  love 
and  veneration,  but  to  reconcile  you  to  God ;  but  you 
cannot  be  reconciled  to  God  v/hile  you  confider  the 

propofal 
*  This  S3  the  moft  literal  tranllation  01  wg£!7/2y'ojy.E!/  visi^  %pr5. 


.S:rm.  3.  be  reconciled  to  God.  1^5 

propofal  as  made  to  you  only  by  your  fellow  mortal. 
You  muft  regard  it  as  made  to  you  by  the  Lord  Jefus 
Chrift,  the  great  Mediator  between  God  and  man.  I 
not  only  allow,  but  even  invite  and  charge  you  to  en- 
quire and  judge  v/hether  what  I  liiy  be  agreeable  to  my 
divine  inil:ru6tions,  which  are  as  open  to  your  inipec- 
tion  as  mine,  and  to  regard  it  no  farther  than  it  is  fo: 
but  if  I  follow  thefe  inftrudions,  and  propofe  the 
treaty  of  peace  to  you  juft  as  it  is  concluded  in  hea- 
ven, then  I  charge  you  to  regard  it  as  propofed  by  the 
Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  the  King  of  kings,  and 
Lord  of  lords,  though  through  m.y  unworthy  lips. 
Coniider  yourfelves  this  day  as  the  hearers  not  of  a 
preacher  formed  out  of  the  clay  like  yourfelves,  but 
of  the  Lord  Jefus  Chrift.  Suppofe  him  here  in  per- 
fon  treating  with  you  about  your  reconciliation  to  God, 
and  what  regard  you  would  pay  to  a  propofal  miade 
by  him  in  perfon,  with  all  his  divine  royalties  about 
him,  that  you  ihould  now  fhew  to  the  treaty  I  am  to 
negociate  with  you  in  his  name  and  ftead. 

The  next  fentence  in  my  text  binds  you  ftill  more 
ftrongly  to  this  ;  as  though  God  did  bejeech  you  by  us. 
As  if  he  had  faid,  "  God  the  Father  alfo  concurs  in 
this  treaty  of  peace,  as  well  as  Chrift  the  great  peace- 
maker ;  and  as  we  difcharge  an  embafty  for  Chrift,  fo 
we  do  alfo  for  God  •,  and  you  are  to  regard  our  be- 
feeching  and  exhorting*,  as  though  the  great  God  did 
in  perfon  befeech  and  exhort  you  by  us."  What  afto- 
nifhing  condefcenfion  is  here  intimated!  not  that  the 
minifters  of  Chrift  ftiould  befeech  you-,  this  would  be 
no  mighty  condefcenfion:  but  that  the  ftipreme  Jeho- 
vah fhould  befeech  you ;  that  he  ftiould  not  only  com- 
mand you  with  a  ftern  air  of  authority  as  your  Sove- 
reign, but  as  a  friend,  nay,  as  a  petitioner  fhould  af- 
fedionately  befeech  you,  you  defpicable,  guilty  worms, 
obnoxious  rebels  !  How  aftoniftiing,  how  God-like, 
how  unprecedented  and  inimitable  is  this  condefcen- 
fion !     Let  heaven  and  earth  admire  and  adore  !     It 

is 

*  &iap«xa^5i/1oj  fignifies  exhorting,  as  well  as  befeechhg. 


3' 


1^6  Sinners  inlreaied  to  Serm 

is  by  us,  indeed,  by  us  your  poor  fellow  mortals,  that 
he  befeeches  -,  but  O !  let  not  this  tempt  you  to  dif- 
regard  him  or  his  intreaty  :  though  he  employs  fuch 
mean  ambafiadors,  yet  confider  liis  dignity  who  fends 
us,  and  then  you  cannot  difregard  his  meflage  even 
from  our  mouth. 

The  apoftle,  having  thus  prepared  the  way,  pro- 
ceeds to  the  actual  exercife  of  his  office  as  an  ambaf- 
fador  for  Chrift:  Weprayyou^  fays  he,  in  Chrifi^ s  Jiead, 
be  reconciled  to  God.  As  if  he  had  faid,  "  If  Chrilt 
were  now  prefent  in  perfon  among  you,  this  is  what 
he  would  propofe  to  you,  and  urge  upon  you,  that 
you  v/ould  be  reconciled  to  God  -,  but  him  the  heavens 
muft  receive  till  the  time  of  the  reftitution  of  all 
things;  but  he  has  left  us  his  poor  fervants  to  officiate 
in  his  place  as  vvell  as  we  can,  and  we  would  profecute 
the  fame  delign,  we  would  urge  upon  you  what  he 
would  urge,  were  he  to  fpeak  ;  therefore  we  pray  you, 
in  his  ftead,  be  ye  reconciled  to  God :  we  earncftly 
pray  you  to  be  reconciled  :  that  is  the  utmoft  which 
fuch  feeble  worms  as  we  can  do:  v/e  can  only  pray 
and  beg,  but  your  compliance  is  not  within  the  com- 
mand of  our  power  ;  the  compliance  belongs  to  you  ; 
and  remember,  if  you  refufe,  you  muft  take  it  upon 
yourfelves,  and  anfwer  the  confequence." 

Having  thus  explained  the  text,  I  proceed  in  my 
poor  manner  to  exemplify  it  by  negociating  the  treaty 
with  you  for  your  reconciliation  to  God  ;  and  you  fee 
my  bufinefs  lies  diredly  with  fuch  of  you  as  are  as  yet 
enemies  to  God :  you  are  the  only  perfons  that  ftand 
in  need  of  reconciliation.  As  for  fuch  of  you  (and 
I  doubt  not  but  there  are  fuch  among  you)  whofe  in- 
nate enmity  has  been  fubdued,  and  Vvho  are  become 
the  friends  and  fubjefts  of  the  King  of  heaven  after 
your  guilty  revolt,  I  muft  delire  you  as  it  were  to  ftand 
by  yourfelves  for  the  prefent  hour,  and  help  me  by 
your  prayers,  while  I  am  fpeaking  to  your  poor  bre- 
thren, who  ftill  continue  in  that  ftate  of  hoftility  and 
rebellion  againfl  God,  in  which  you  once  were,  and 

the 


Serm.  g,  he  reconciled  to  God.  i^y 

the.  miferies  of  which  you  well  know,  and  ftill  lament 
and  deplore. 

But  by  this  propofal  I  am  afraid  I  have  deprived 
myfelf  of  hearers  on  this  fubjed: ;  for  have  you  not 
all  already  placed  yourfelves  among  the  lovers  of  God, 
who  confequently  do  not  need  to  be  reconciled  to  him  ? 
Is  not  every  one  of  you  ready  to  fay  to  me,  "  If  your 
bufinefs  only  lies  with  the  enemies  of  God,  you  have 
no  concern  with  me  in  this  difcourfe  ?  for,  God  forbid 
that  I  fhould  be  an  enemy  to  him.  I  have  indeed 
been  guilty  of  a  great  many  fins,  but  I  had  no  bad 
defign  in  them,  and  never  had  the  leaft  enmity  againft 
my  Maker ;  fo  far  from  it,  that  I  lliudder  at  the  very 
thought !"  This  is  the  firft  obftacle  that  I  meet  with 
in  difcharging  my  embafly  :  the  embaffy  itfelf  is  look- 
ed upon  as  Beedlefs  by  the  perfons  concerned,  like  an 
attempt  to  reconcile  thofe  that  are  good  friends  alrea- 
dy. This  obftacle  muft  be  removed  before  we  can 
proceed  any  farther. 

I  am  far  from  charging  any  of  you  with  fo  horrid  a 
crime  as  enmity  and  rebellion  againft  God,  who  can 
produce  fatlsfadlory  evidences  to  your  own  confcience 
that  you  are  his  friends.  I  only  defire  that  you  would 
not  flatter  yourfelves,  nor  draw  a  rafti  and  groundlefs 
conclufion  in  an  affair  of  fuch  infinite  moment,  but 
that  you  would  put  the  matter  to  a  fair  trial,  according 
to  evidence,  and  then  let  your  confcience  pafs  an  im- 
partial fentence  as  your  judge,  under  the  fupreme 
Judge  of  the  world. 

You  plead  "  Not  guilty"  to  the  charge,  and  al- 
ledge  that  you  have  always  loved  God ;  but  if  this  be 
the  cafe,  whence  is  it  that  you  have  afforded  him  (o 
few  of  your  affedlionate  and  warm  thoughts  ?  Do  not 
your  tendereft  thoughts  dwell  upon  the  objedls  of  your 
love?  But  has  not  your  mind  been  fhy  of  him  who 
gave  you  your  power  of  thinking  ?  Have  not  you 
lived  ftupldly  thoughtlefs  of  him  for  days  and  weeks 
together  ?  Nay,  have  not  ferious  thoughts  of  him 
been  unwelcome,   and  made  you  uneafy  ?  and  have 

T  you 


138  Sinners  intreated  to  Serm.  3:.  ^ 

you  not  turned  every  way  to  avoid  them  ?  Have 
you  not  often  prayed  to  him,  and  concurred  in  other 
ac5ls  of  religious  worfhip,  and  yet  had  but  very  few- 
er no  devout  thoughts  of  him,  even  at  the  very  time? 
And  is  that  mind  well  affeded  towards  him  that  is  fo 
averfe  to  him,  and  turns  every  way  to  fhun  a  glance 
of  him  ?  Alas  !  is  this  your  friendfhip  for  the  God 
that  made  you,  whofe  you  are,  and  whom  you  ought 
to  ferve ! 

Would  you  not  have  indulged  the  fool's  wifh,  that 
there  were  no  God,  had  not  the  horror  and  impoffi- 
bility  of  the  thing  reftrained  you  ?  But,  notwith- 
llianding  this  reftraint,  has  not  this  blafphemy  fhed  its 
malignant  poifon  at  times  in  your  hearts  ?  If  there 
was  no  God,  then  you  would  fin  without  controul,  and 
without  dread  of  punifhment ;  and  how  fweet  was 
this  !  Then  you  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  that 
melancholy  thing,  religion ;  and  what  an  agreeable 
exemption  would  this  be!  But  is  this  your  love  for 
him.,  to  wifh  the  Parent  of  all  being  out  of  being  I 
Alas  !  can  the  rankeft  enmity  rife  higher ' 

Again,  if  you  are  reconciled  to  God,  vv'hence  is  it 
that  you  are  fecretly,  or  perhaps  openly  difaffedled  to 
his  image,  I  mean  the  purity  and  ftridnefs  of  his  law, 
and  the  lineaments  of  holinefs  that  appear  upon  the 
unfafhionable  religious  few  ?  If  you  loved  God,  you 
would  of  courfe  love  every  thing  that  bears  any  refem- 
blance  to  him.  But  are  you  not  confcious  that  it  is 
otherwife  with  you  -,  that  you  murmur  and  cavil  at  the 
reftraints  of  God's  law,  and  would  much  rather  abjure 
it,  be  free  from  it,  and  live  as  you  lift  ?  Are  you  not 
confcious  that  nothing  expofes  a  man  more  to  your 
fecret  difguft  and  contempt,  and  perhaps  to  your  pub- 
lic mockery  and  ridicule,  than  a  ftrid;  and  holy  walk, 
and  a  confcientious  obfervance  of  the  duties  of  devo- 
tion ?  And  if  you  catch  your  neighbour  in  any  of 
thefe  offences,  do  not  your  hearts  rife  againft  him  ? 
and  what  is  this  but  the  effe6l  of  your  enmity  againft 
God  ?     Do  you  thus  difguft  a  man  for  wearing  the 

genuine 


Serm.  3-  be  reconciled  to  God.  130 

genuine  image  and  refemblance  of  your  friend  ?    No ; 
tlie  effed  of  love  is  quite  the  reverfe. 

Again,  If  you  do  but  refled  upon  the  daily  fenfa- 
tions  of  your  own  minds,  muft  you  not  be  confcious 
that  you  love  other  perfons  and  things  more  than  God  ? 
that  you  love  pleafure,  honour,  riches,  your  relations 
and  friends,  more  than  the  glorious  and  ever-blefled 
God  ?  Look  into  your  own  hearts,  and  you  v/ill  find 
it  fo:  you  will  find  that  this,  and  that,  and  a  thoufand 
things  in  this  world,  engrofs  more  of  your  thoughts, 
your  cares,  deiires,  joys,  forrows,  hopes,  and  fears, 
than  God,  or  any  of  his  concerns.  Now  it  is  q^qxi- 
tial  to  the  love  of  God  that  it  be  fupreme.  You  do 
not  love  him  truly  at  all,  in  the  leafl  degree,  if  you 
do  not  love  him  above  all ;  above  all  perfons  and  things 
in  the  whole  univerfe.  He  is  a  jealous  God,  and  will 
not  fufFer  a  rival.  A  lower  degree  of  love  for  fupreme 
excellence  is  an  affront  and  indignity.  Is  It  not  there- 
fore evident,  even  to  your  own  convi6lion,  that  you 
do  not  love  God  at  all ;  and  what  Is  this  but  to  be  his 
enemy  .^  To  be  indifferent  towards  him,  as  though 
he  were  an  infignificant  being,  neither  good  nor  evil, 
a  mere  cypher-,  to  feel  neither  love  nor  hatred  to- 
wards him,  but  to  negled:  him,  as  if  you  had  no  con- 
cern with  him  one  way  or  other ;  what  an  horrible 
difpofitlon  is  this  towards  him,  who  is  fupremely  and 
infinitely  glorious  and  amiable,  your  Creator,  your 
Sovereign,  and  Benefaftor;  who  therefore  deferves 
and  demands  your  highefi:  love;  or,  in  the  words  of 
his  own  law,  that  you  Jhould  love  him  with  all  your  hearty 
with  all  your  foul ^  with  all  your  mind^  and  with  all  your 
firength.  Mark  xii.  30.  From  what  can  fuch  Indlf- 
ferency  towards  him  proceed  but  from  difaffedllon  and 
enmity?  It  Is  in  this  way  that  the  enmity  of  men 
towards  God  moft  generally  dlfcovers  itfelf.  They 
feel,  perhaps,  no  pofitive  workings  of  hatred  towards 
him,  unlefs  when  their  innate  corruption,  like  an  ex- 
afperated  ferpent,  is  Irritated  by  convidilon  from  his 
law ;  but  they  feel  an  apathy,  a  llfllefTnefs,  an  indif- 

ferency 


140  Sinners  intreated  to  Serm.  3. 

ferency  towards  him  •,  and  becaufe  they  feel  no  morCj 
they  flatter  themfelves  they  are  far  from  hating  him  -, 
efpecially  as  they  may  have  very  honourable  fpeculative 
thoughts  of  him  floating  on  the  furface  of  their  minds. 
But  alas !  this  very  thing,  this  irtdiffBrency,  or  liftlefs 
neutrality,  is  the  very  core  of  their  enmity  ;  and  if 
they  are  thus  indifferent  to  him  now,  while  enjoving 
fo  many  blefTmgs  from  his  hand,  and  while  he  delays 
their  punifhment,  how  will  their  enmity  fwell  and  rife 
to  all  the  rage  of  a  devil  againft  him,  when  he  puts 
forth  his  vindidtive  hand  and  touches  them,  and  fo 
gives  occafion  to  it  to  difcover  its  venom  !  My  foul 
fhudders  to  think  what  horrid  infurre6lions  and  dired; 
rebellion  this  temper  will  produce  when  once  irritat- 
ed, and  all  reftraints  are  taken  ofF;  which  will  be  the 
doom  of  fmners  in  the  eternal  world  ;  and  then  they 
will  have  no  more  of  the  love  of  God  in  them  than 
the  moft  malignant  devil  in  hell!  If  therefore  you 
generally  feel  fuch  an  indifferency  towards  God,  be 
ialTured  you  are  not  reconciled  to  him,  but  are  his  ene- 
mies in  your  hearts. 

Again,  All  moral  evil,  or  fin,  is  contrary  to  God; 
it  is  the  only  thing  upon  earth,  or  in  hell,  that  is  moffc 
oppofite  to  his  holy  nature  ;  and  the  obje6t  of  his  im- 
placable and  eternal  indignation.  He  is  of  purer  eyes 
than  to  behold  it  or  endure  it.  It  is  his  hatred  to  fin 
that  has  turned  his  heart  againft  any  of  his  creatures ; 
and  is  the  caufe  of  all  the  vengeance  that  he  has  in- 
Aided  upon  the  guilty  inhabitants  of  our  world,  or 
the  fpirits  of  hell.  There  is  no  objeft  in  the  whole 
compafs  of  the  unlverfe  fo  odious  to  you  as  every  fin 
is  to  a  pure  and  all-holy  God :  now  it  is  impofTible 
you  fhould  at  once  love  two  things  fo  oppofite,  fo  eter- 
nally irreconcileable.  As  much  love  as  you  have  for 
any  unlawful  pleafure,  juft  fo  much  enmity  there  is  in 
your  hearts  towards  God.  Hence,  fays  St.  Paul,  you 
were  enemies  in  your  minds  by  wicked  works.  Col.  i.  21. 
Intimating,  that  the  love  and  pradice  of  our  wicked 
]^orks  is  a  plain  evidence  of  inward  enmity  of  mind 

towards 


Serm.  3-  he  reconciled  lo  God.  141 

towards  God.  The  works  of  the  flelli  are  finful: 
hence,  fays  the  fame  apoftle,  the  carnal  mind^  or  the 
minding  of  the  jiejh^  <p(ov/{ (ao.  ca.(Ko\,  Rom.  viii.  7.  is  en- 
mity againfi  God;  it  is  not  fubje5t  to  the  law  of  God,  nei^ 
ther  indeed  can  it  be :  fo  then  they  that  are  in  the  flefh,  or 
under  the  power  of  a  carnal  mind,  cannot  pleafe  God. 
Rom.  viii.  8.  becaufe,  whatever  feeming  ads  of  obedi- 
ence they  perform,  and  whatever  appearances  of  friend- 
fhip  they  put  on,  they  are  at  heart  enemies  to  God, 
and  therefore  cannot  pleafc  him,  who  fearches  their 
heart,  and  fees  the  fecret  principle  of  their  adions. 
Hence  alfo  St.  James  tells  us,  that  if  any  man  would 
be  a  friend  to  the  world,  he  is  the  enemy  of  God,  becaufe 
the  friend/hip  of  the  world  is  enmity  againfi  God.  Jam. 
iv.  4.  For  the  world  enfiames  the  lufts  of  men,  and 
occaiions  much  fin  •■,  and  if  we  love  the  tempter,  we 
love  the  fin  to  v.'hich  it  would  allure  us ;  and  if  we 
love  the  fin,  we  are  the  enemies  of  God ;  and  there- 
fore the  friendfhip  of  the  world  is  enmity  againft  God. 
This  then  is  an  eflablifhed  maxim,  without  ftraining 
the  matter  too  far,  that  as  far  as  you  love  any  fin,  fo 
far  are  you  enemies  to  God.  The  love,  as  well  as  the 
fervice  of  fuch  oppofite  mafters,  is  utterly  inconfiilent. 
Now,  do  not  your  own  confciences  witnefs  againft  you, 
that  you  have  indulged,  and  ftill  do  habitually  indulge 
the  love  of  fome  fin  or  other  '^.  Whether  it  be  covetouf- 
nefs  or  fenfual  pleafure,  or  ambition,  or  fome  angry 
pafilon,  or  whatever  fin  it  be,  as  far  as  you  love  it,  fo 
far  you  are  enemies  to  God;  and  if  you  take  a  view 
of  your  temper  and  pra6lice,  muft  you  not  unavoida- 
bly be  convided  of  this  dreadful  guilt  ?  Horrible  as 
the  crime  is,  is  it  not  an  undeniable  matter  of  fa6t, 
that  you  do  really  love  fomd  fin,  and  confequently  hate 
the  infinitely  amiable  and  ever  blefied  God  t  and  there- 
fore you  are  the  perfons  I  have  to  deal  with,  as  need-, 
ing  reconciliation  with  God. 

Farther,  Take  a  view  of  your  general  manner  of 
ferving  God  in  the  duties  of  religion ;  your  manner 
of  praying,  meditation,    hearing  the  word  of  God, 

and 


142  Sinners  intreated  io  Serm.  3. 

and  other  aifls  of  devotion,  and  then  inquire,  Do  you 
perform  this  fervice  as  the  wilHng  fervants  of  a  mafter 
you  love  ?  Do  you  not  enter  upon  fuch  fervice  with 
rekidance  or  Hftleflhefs,  and  perform  it  with  langour 
and  indifferency,  as  a  bufinefs  to  which  you  have  no 
heart  ?  But  is  this  your  manner  of  performing  a  la- 
bour of  "love  to  a  friend  ?  Will  your  own  reafon  fuf- 
fer  you  to  think  you  would  be  fo  luke-warm  and  heart- 
lefs  in  the  worlhip  of  God  if  you  fincerely  loved  him  ? 
No  J  love  is  an  a6live  principle,  a  vigorous  fpring  of 
adion  i  and  if  this  were  the  principle  of  your  religious 
fervices,  you  Vv^ould  infufe  more  fpirit  and  life  into 
them,  you  would  exert  all  your  powers,  and  be  fer- 
vent in  fpirit^  ferving  the  Lord.  Rom.  xii.  11. 

But  when  you  have  performed  offices  of  devotion 
v/ith  fome  degree  of  earneflnefs,  which  no  doubt  you 
have  fometimes  done,  what  was  the  principle  or  fpring 
of  your  exertion  ?  Was  it  the  love  of  God  ?  or  was 
it  purely  the  low  principle  of  felf-love  ?  Why  did  you 
pray  with  fuch  eager  importunity,  and  attend  upon 
the  other  means  of  grace  with  fo  much  ferioufnefs, 
but  becaufe  you  apprehended  your  dear  felves  were  in 
danger,  and  you  were  not  willing  to  be  miferable  for 
ever  ?  This  fervile,  mercenary  kind  of  religious  ear- 
neflnefs v/ill  not  prove  that  you  love  God,  but  only 
that  you  love  yourfelves ;  and  this  you  may  do,  and 
yet  have  no  more  true  goodnefs,  or  genuine  love  to 
God,  than  an  infernal  fpirit ;  for  there  is  not  a  fpirit  in 
hell  but  what  loves  himfelf.  Indeed  felf-love  is  fo  far 
from  being  an  evidence  of  the  love  of  God,  that  the 
extravagant  excefs  of  it  is  the  fource  of  that  wicked- 
nefs  that  abounds  among  men  and  devils.  I  do  not 
mean  by  this  utterly  to  exclude  felf-love  out  of  genuine 
religion  -,  it  muft  have  its  place  in  the  moft  excellent 
and  beft  beings,  but  then  it  muft  be  kept  in  a  proper 
fubordination,  and  not  advance  the  creature  above  the 
Creator,  and  dethrone  the  fupreme  King  ot  the  uni- 
verfe. — His  love  muil  be  uppermoft  in  the  heart,  and 
when  that  has  the  higheil  place,  the  indulgence  of 

felf- 


Serm.  3'  he  reconciled  to  God.  14^ 

felf-love  in  purfuing  our  own  happinefs  is  lawful,  and 
an  important  duty.  Now,  do  you  not  find  from  this 
view  of  the  cafe,  that  you  are  not  reconciled  to  God, 
even  in  your  moft  devout  and  zealous  hours,  much 
lefs  in  the  languid  inadlive  tenour  of  your  lives  ?  If 
fo,  place  yourfelves  among  thofe  that  I  have  to  do  with 
to-day ;  that  is,  the  enemies  of  God. 

So  alfo,  when  you  perform  good  offices  to  mankind  ; 
when  you  are  harmlefs,  obliging  neighbours  ;  when 
you  are  charitable  to  the  poor,  or  ftridly  juft  in  trade ; 
is  the  love  of  God,  and  a  regard  to  his  authority,  the 
reafon  and  principle  of  your  adions  ?  That  is,  do 
you  do  thefe  things  becaufe  God  commands  them,  and 
becaufe  you  delight  to  do  what  he  commands  ?  or  ra- 
ther, do  you  not  do  them  merely  becaufe  it  is  your 
nature  to  perform  humane  and  honourable  anions  in 
fuch  inftances-,  or  becaufe  you  may  acquire  honour,  or 
fome  felfifli  advantage  by  them .''  Alas  !  that  God 
fhould  be  neglefted,  forgotten,  and  left  out  of  the 
qucftion,  as  of  no  importance,  even  in  thofe  adlions 
that  are  materially  good !  that  even  what  he  commands 
fhould  be  done,  not  becaufe  he  commands  it,  but  for 
fome  other  fordid  felfifh  reafon  !  O  !  if  you  did  really 
love  God,  would  you  thus  difregard  him,  and  do  no- 
thing for  his  fake;  not  only  when  you  are  doing  what 
he  forbids,  but  even  when  you  are  performing  what 
he  has  made  your  duty  !  Would  he  be  fuch  a  cypher, 
a  mere  nothing  in  your  pradlical  efteem,  if  your  hearts 
were  reconciled  to  him  as  your  God  ?  No;  fuch  of 
you  muft  look  upon  yourfelves  as  the  very  perfons 
whom  I  am  to  pray,  in  Chrift's  ftead,  to  be  reconciled 
to  God. 

I  might  tliHS,  from  obvious  fads,  lay  before  you 
many  more  evidences  of  your  difaffeftion  to  the  great 
God ;  but  I  muft  leave  fome  room  for  the  other  part 
of  my  addrefs  to  you,  in  which  I  am  to  perfuade  you 
to  accept  of  the  propofal  of  reconciliation  -,  and  there- 
fore I  fhall  add  only  one  more  teft  of  your  pretended 
friendfnip,  a  tell  which  is  eftablifhed  by  the  great 

Founder 


144  Sinners  intreaied  to  Serm.  3., 

Founder  of  our  religion,  as  infallibly  decifive  in  this 
cafe;  and  that  is,  obedience,,  or  the  keeping  of  the 
commandments  of  God.  This,  I  fay,  is  eftablifhed 
in  the  ftrongeft  terms  by  Jefus  Chrift  himfelf,  as  a  de- 
cifive  tefl:  of  love,  If  you  love  me^  keep  my  command- 
ments. John  xiv.  15.  Then  are  ye  my  friends  if  ye  do 
whatfoever  I  command  you.  John  xv.  14.  If  any  man 
love  me^  be  will  keep  my  words.  He  that  loveth  me  not., 
keepeth  not  m-y  faying.  John  xiv.  23,  24.  This  is  the 
love  of  Gody  fays  St.  John,  that  we  keep  his  command- 
ments ;  and  his  commandments  are  not  grievous,  i  John 
V.  3.  that  is,  they  are  not  grievous  when  love  is  the 
principle  of  obedience.  The  fervice  of  love  is  always 
willing  and  p]eafing.  Now,  my  brethren,  bring  your 
hearts  and  lives  to  this  ftandard,  and  let  confcience  de- 
clare, Are  there  not  fome  demands  and  reftraints  of 
the  divine  law  fo  dlfagreeable  to  you  that  you  labour 
to  keep  yourfelves  ignorant  of  them,  and  turn  every 
way  to  avoid  the  painful  light  of  conviftion  }  Are 
there  not  feveral  duties  which  you  know  in  your  con- 
fciences  to  be  fach,  which  you  do  not  fo  much  as  ho- 
neftly  endeavour  to  perform,  but  knowingly  and  wil- 
fully negled: .''  And  are  there  not  fome  favourite  fins 
which  your  confciences  tell  you  God  has  forbidden, 
which  yet  are  fo  pleafing  to  you,  that  you  knowingly 
and  allowedly  indulge  and  pra(5life  them?  If  this  be 
your  cafe,  you  need  not  pretend  to  plead  any  thing  in 
your  own  defence,  or  hefitate  any  longer ;  the  cafe  is 
plain,  you  are,  beyond  all  doubt,  enemies  to  God ; 
you  are  undeniably  convifted  of  it  this  day  by  irrefifti- 
ble  evidence.  You  perhaps  glory  in  the  profeflion  of 
Chriftians,  but  you  are,  notwithftanding,  enemies  of 
God.  You  attend  on  public  worfhip,  you  pray,  you 
read,  you  communicate,  you  are  perhaps  a  zealous 
churchman  or  diffenter,  but  you  are  enemies  of  God. 
You  have  perhaps  had  many  fits  of  religious  affeftion, 
and  ferious  concern  about  your  everlafting  happinefs, 
but  notwithftanding  you  are  enemies  of  God.  You 
may  have  reformed  in  many  things,  but  you  are  flill 

enemies 


,Serni.  3'  he  reconciled  to  God.  14^ 

enemies  of  God.  Men  may  efteem  you  Chriftians, 
but  the  God  of  Heaven  accounts  you  his  enemies.  In 
vain  do  you  infift  upon  it,  that  you  have  never  hated 
your  Maker  all  your  life,  but  even  tremble  at  the 
thought,  for  undeniable  fafts  are  againft  you  \  and  the 
reafon  why  you  have  not  ktn  your  enmity  was,  be- 
caufe  you  were  blind,  and  judged  upon  wrong  princi- 
ples :  but  if  you  this  day  feel  the  force  of  convidion 
from  the  law,  and  have  your  eyes  opened,  you  will 
fee  and  be  fhocked  at  your  horrid  enmity  againft  God, 
before  yonder  fun  fets. 

And  now,  when  I  have  fingled  out  from  the  reft 
thofe  I  am  now  to  befeech  to  reconciliation  with  God, 
have  I  not  got  the  majority  of  you  to  treat  with .'' 
Where  are  the  fmcere  lovers  of  God  ?  Alas  !  how 
few  are  they  !  and  how  imperfedb  even  in  their  love, 
fo  that  they  hardly  dare  call  themfelves  lovers  of  God, 
but  tremble  left  they  ftiould  ftill  belong  to  the  wretch- 
ed crowd  that  are  ftill  unreconciled  to  him  ! 

Ye  rebels  againft  the  King  of  Heaven  !  ye  enemies 
againft  my  Lord  and  Mafter  Jefus  Chrift !  (I  cannot 
flatter  you  with  a  fofter  name)  hear  me  •,  attend  to  the 
propofal  I  make  to  you,  not  in  my  own  name,  but  in 
the  name  and  ftead  of  your  rightful  Sovereign ;  and 
that  is,  that  you  will  this  day  be  reconciled  to  God. 
"  I  pray  you  in  his  ftead  (that  is  all  I  can  do)  "  be 
ye  reconciled  to  God."  That  you  may  know  what 
I  mean,  I  will  more  particularly  explain  this  overture 
to  you. 

If  you  would  be  reconciled  to  God,  you  muft  be 
deeply  fenfible  of  the  guilt,  the  wickednefs,  the  bafe- 
nefs,  the  inexpreftible  malignity  of  your  enmity  and 
rebellion  againft  him.  You  muft  return  to  your  right- 
ful Sovereign  as  convifted,  felf-conderaned,  penitent, 
broken-hearted  rebels,  confounded  and  aftiamed  of 
your  condud:,  loathing  yourfeives  becaufe  you  have 
loathed  the  fupreme  Excellence,  mourning  over  your 
unnatural  difaffedion,  your  bafe  ingratitude,  your  hor- 
rid rebellion  againft  fo  good  a  King.  And  what  do  you 

U  fay 


J 4^  Sinners  intreated  to  Serm.  3, 

fay  to  this  article  of  the  treaty  of  peace  ?  Is  it  an 
hard  thing  for  fuch  caufeiefs  enemies  to  fall  upon  the 
knee,  and  to  mourn  and  weep  as  proftrate  penitents 
at  the  feet  of  their  injured  Maker  ?  Is  it  an  hard 
thing  for  one  that  has  all  his  life  been  guilty  of  the 
blackeft  crime  upon  earth,  or  even  in  hell,  I  mean  en- 
mity againft  God,  toconfefs  "  I  have  finned,"  and  to 
feel  his  own  confeffion  ?  to  feel  it,  I  fay  •,  for  if  he 
does  not  feel  it,  his  confeilion  is  but  an  empty  cora- 
piiment,  that  increafes  his  guilt. 

Again,  It  you  would  be  reconciled   to   God,  you 
muft  heartily  confent  to  be  reconciled  to  him  in  Chrift; 
that  is,  you  mufc  come  in  upon  the  footing  of  that 
2it\  of  grace  which  is  pubHihed  in  the  gofpel  through 
Chrift,  and  exp,e<5ling  no  favour  at  all  upon  the  footing 
of  your  own   goodnefs.     The  merit  of  what  you  call 
your  good  aftions,  of  your  repentance,  your  prayers, 
your  afts  of  charity  and  juftice,  muft  all  pafs  for  no- 
thing in  this  refped:  you  muft  depend  only  and  en- 
tirely upon  the  merit  of  Chrift's  obedience  and  fufrer- 
ings  as  the^  ground  of  your  acceptance  with  God; 
and  hope  for   forgivenefs  and  favour  from  his  mere 
mercy  beftowed  upon  you,  only  for  the  fake  of  Chrift, 
or  on  account  of  what  he  has  done  and  fuff'ered  in  the 
ftead  of  finners.     The  context  informs  you,  that  it  is 
only  in  Chrift   that  God  is  reconciling  the  world  to 
himfelf-,  and  confequently  it  is  only  in  Chrift  that  the 
world  muft  accept  of  reconciliation  and  pardon.     It 
does  not  confift  with  the  dignity  and  perfedions  of  the 
King  of  Heaven  to  receive  rebels  into  favour  upon 
any  other  footing.     I  would  have  you  confent  to  every 
article  of  the  overture  as  I   go  along  •,  and  therefore 
here  again  I  make  a  paufe  to  afk  you,  what  do  you 
think  of  this  article  ?     Are  you  v/iliing  to  comply 
with  it,  willing  to  come  into  favour  with  God,  as  con- 
victed, felf-condemned  rebels,  upon   an  a6t  of  grace 
procured  by  the  righteoufnefs  of  Chrift  alone  ?     Is  it 
a  mortification  to  creatures  that  never  have  done  one 
adion  truly  good  in  all  their  lives,  becaufe  they  have 

never 


Serm.  3-  he  reconciled  to  God.  147 

never  loved  God  in  one  moment  of  their  lives  -,  crea- 
tures that  have  always,  even  in  what  they  counted 
their  beft  difpofitions,  and  beft  adlions,  been  hateful  to 
God,  becaufe  even  in  their  beft  difpofitions  and  beft 
adtions  they  were  utterly  deftitute  of  his  love  ?  Is  it 
a  mortification  to  fuch  creatures  to  renounce  all  their 
own  merit,  and  confent  to  be  faved  only  through  grace, 
on  account  of  the  righteoufnefs  of  another,  even  of 
Jefus  Chrift  the  great  peace-maker  ?  Can  it  be  a  mor- 
tification to  you  to  renounce  what  you  have  not,  and 
to  own  yourfelves  guilty,  and  utterly  unworthy,  when 
you  are  really  fuch  ?  O  !  may  I  not  expeft  your  com- 
pliance with  this  term  of  reconciliation  ? 

Again,  If  you  would  be  reconciled  to  God,  you 
muft  engage  yourfelves  in  his  fervice  for  the  future, 
and  devote  yourfelves  to  do  his  will.  His  law  muft 
be  the  rule  of  your  temper  and  pradice  :  whatever  he 
commands,  you  muft  honeftly  endeavour  to  perform, 
without  exception  of  any  one  duty  as  difagreeable  and 
laborious  ;  and  whatever  he  forbids,  you  muft,  for 
that  reafon,  abftain  from,  however  pleafing,  advanta- 
geous, or  faftiionable.  You  muft  no  longer  look  upon 
yourfelves  as  your  own,  but  as  bought  with  a  price, 
and  therefore  bound  to  glorify  God  with  your  fouls 
^and  your  bodies,  which  are  his.  And  can  you  make 
any  difficulty  of  complying  with  this  term  •,  of  obey- 
ing Him,  whom  the  happy  angels  in  heaven  obey  ; 
of  obferving  that  law  which  always  unites  your  duty 
and  your  happinefs,  and  forbids  nothing  but  what  is 
itfelf  injurious  to  you  in  the  nature  of  things  ;  of  do- 
ing the  will  of  the  wifeft  and  beft  of  beings  rather 
than  your  own,  who  are  ignorant  and  depraved  crea- 
tures ^  O  !  can  you  make  any  difficulty  of  this  ?  If 
not,  you  will  return  home  this  day  reconciled  to  Godj  an 
happinefs  you  have  never  yet  enjoyed  for  one  moment. 

Finally,  If  you  would  be  reconciled  to  God,  you 
muft  break  off  all  friendftiip  with  his  enemies;  your 
friendftiip  with  the  world,  I  mean  your  attachment 
to  its  wicked  faft\ions  and  ciiftoms,  and  your  fondnefs 

foj- 


H^  Sinners  intreated  to  Serm.  3, 

for  its  rebellious  inhabitants,  who  continue  enemies 
to  God  •,  your  love  of  guilty  pleafures,  and  every  form 
of  fin,  however  pleafing  or  gainful  you  might  imagine 
it  to  be  ;  your  old  habits  and  praftices,  while  enemies 
to  God ',  all  thefe  you  muft  break  ofr  for  ever ;  for 
your  friendfhip  with  thefe  is  utterly  inconfifl-ent  with 
the  love  of  God.  As  long  as  you  are  refolved  to  love 
the  world,  to  keep  up  your  fociety  with  your  old  com- 
panions in  fin,  to  retain  your  old  pleafures  and  evil 
praftices  ;  as  \cngy  I  fay,  as  you  are  refolved  upon  this 
courfe,  farewell  all  hope  of  your  reconciliation  to  God: 
it  is  abfolutely  impoflible.  And  do  any  of  you  hefi- 
tate  at  this  article  ?  Is  fin  fo  noble  a  thing  in  itfelf, 
and  fo  happy  in  its  confequences,  as  that  you  fhould 
be  fo  loth  to  part  with  it  ?  Is  it  fo  fweet  a  thing  to 
you  to  fin  againft  God,  that  you  know  not  how  to  for- 
bear ?  Alas  !  will  you  rather  be  an  implacable  enemy 
to  the  God  that  made  you,  than  break  your  league 
with  his  enemies  and  your  own  ?  Do  you  love  your 
iins  fo  well,  and  are  you  fo  obliged  to  them,  that  you 
will  lay  down  your  life,  your  eternal  life,  for  their 
fake? 

I  might  multiply  particulars,  but  thefe  are  the  prin- 
cipal articles  of  that  treaty  of  peace  I  am  negociating 
with  you  •,  and  a  confent  to  thefe  includes  a  compli- 
ance with  all  the  reft.  And  are  you  determined  to 
comply  ?  Does  the  heaven-born  purpofe  now  rife  in 
your  minds,  "  I  am  determined  I  will  be  an  enemy 
of  God  no  longer  j  but  this  very  day  I  will  be  recon- 
ciled to  God  upon  his  own  terms!"  Is  this  your  fix- 
ed purpofe  ?  or  is  there  any  occafion  to  pray  and  per- 
fuade  you  ? 

I  well  knov/,  and  it  is  fit  you  fhould  know,  that 
you  are  not  able  of  yourfelves  to  confent  to  thefe  terms, 
but  that  it  is  the  work  of  the  power  of  God  alone  to 
reconcile  you  to  himfelf  j  and  that  all  m.y  perfuanons 
?ind  intreaties  v/ill  never  make  you  either  able  or  will- 
ing. You  will  then  afk  me,  perhaps,  "  Why  do  I 
propofe  the  terms  to  you,  or  ufe  any  perfuafives  or 
'  •  intreaties 


Serm.  3'  be  reconciled  to  God.  149 

intreaties  with  you  ?"  I  anfwer,  Becaufe  you  never 
will  be  fenfible  of  your  inability  till  you  make  an  honeft 
trial,  and  becaufe  you  never  will  look  and  pray  for 
the  aid  of  the  blefled  fpirit  till  you  are  deeply  fenfible 
of  your  own  infnfficiency  :  and  further,  becaufe,  if  the 
blefled  fpirit  fhould  ever  effe6lually  work  upon  you. 
It  will  be  by  enlightening  your  underftandings  to  fee 
the  reafonablenefs  of  the  terms,  and  the  force  of  the 
perfuafives ;  and  in  th's  way,  agreeably  to  your  rea- 
fonable  natures,  fweetly  conftraining  your  obftinate 
wills  to  yield  yourfelves  to  God  :  therefore  the  terms 
muft  be  propofed  to  you,  and  perfuafives  ufed,  if  I 
would  be  fubfervient  to  this  divine  agent,  and  furnifh 
him  with  materials  with  which  to  work  •,  and  I  have 
forne  Jittle  hope  that  he  will,  as  it  were,  catch  my 
feeble  words  from  my  lips  before  they  vanifh  into  air, 
and  bear  them  home  to  your  hearts  with  a  power  which 
you  will  not  be  able  to  refift.  Finally,  a  convidlion 
of  the  true  ftate  of  your  cafe  may  conftrain  you  from 
felf-Iove  and  the  low  principles  of  nature  to  ufe  the 
means  of  reconciliation  with  zeal  and  earneflnefs  :  this 
you  are  capable  of,  even  with  the  mere  ftrength  of 
degenerate  nature  •,  and  it  is  only  in  this  way  of  earneft 
endeavours  that  you  have  any  encouragement  to  hope 
for  divine  aid  :  therefore,  notwithftanding  your  utter 
impotence,  I  muft  pray,  intreat,  and  perfuade  you 
to  be  reconciled  to  God. 

I  prav  you,  in  the  name  of  the  great  God  your 
heavenly  Father,  and  of  Jefus  Chrift  your  Redeemer. 
If  God  fhould  once  more  renew  the  thunder  and  light- 
ning, and  darknefs  and  tempeft  of  Sinai,  and  fpeak  to 
you  as  he  once  did  to  the  trembling  Ifraelitcs ;  or  if 
he  fhould  appear  to  you  in  all  the  amiable  and  alluring 
glories  of  a  nn-pardoning  reconcdeable  God,  and  pray 
you  to  be  reconciled  to  him,  would  you  not  then  re- . 
gard  the  propofal  ?  or  if  Jefus,  v.'ho  once  prayed  for 
you  from  the  crofs,  fhould  now  pray  to  you  from  his 
throne  in  heaven,  and  beg  you  with  his  own  gracious 
voice  to  be  reconciled,  O  !  could  you  difregard  the 

intreaty  ? 


i5C>  Sinners  intreated  to  Serm.  3-^ 

intreaty  ?  Surely  no.  Now  the  overture  of  peace  is 
as  really  made  to  you  by  the  bleHed  God  and  his  Son 
Jefus  Chrift,  as  if  it  were  exprcfsly  propofed  to  you 
by  an  immediate  voice  from  heaven.  For  I  befeech 
you,  as  though  God  did  befeech  you  by  me,  and  it  is  in 
Chriji's  Jiead,  that  I  pray  you  be  reconciled  to  God. 
Therefore,  however  lightly  you  may  make  of  a  mere 
propofal  of  mine,  can  you  difregard  an  overture  from 
the  God  that  made  you,  and  the  Saviour  that  bought 
you  with  his  blood ;  in  which  I  am  but  the  faint  echo 
of  their  voice  from  heaven. 

In  the  name  of  God  I  pray  you  ;  the  name  of  the 
greateft  and  bed  of  beings  -,  that  name  which  angels 
love  and  adore,  and  which  ftrikes  terror  through  the 
hardieft  devil  in  the  infernal  regions  •,  the  name  of 
your  Father,  the  immediate  Father  of  your  fpirits, 
and  the  Author  of  your  mortal  frames  j  the  name  of 
your  Preferver  and  ISenefadtor,  in  whom  you  live,  and 
move,  and  have  your  being  •,  and  vv'ho  gives  you  life, 
and  breath,  and  all  things  •,  the  name  of  your  rightful 
Sovereign  and  Lawgiver,  who  has  a  right  to  demand 
your  love  and  obedience ;  the  name  of  your  fupreme 
Judge,  who  will  afcend  the  tribunal,  and  acquit  or 
condemn  you,  as  he  finds  you  friends  or  foes ;  the 
name  of  that  God,  rich  in  goodnefs,  who  has  reple- 
nifhed  heaven  with  an  infinite  plenitude  of  happinefs, 
in  which  he  will  allow  you  to  flriare,  after  all  your  hof- 
tility  and  rebellion,  if  you  confent  to  the  overture  of 
reconciliation  i  in  the  name  of  that  God  of  terrible 
majefty  and  juilice,  who  has  prepared  the  dungeon  of 
hell  as  a  prifon  for  his  enemies,  where  he  holds  in 
chains  the  mighty  powers  of  darknefs,  and  thoufands 
of  your  own  race,  who  perfifted  in  that  enmity  to  him 
of  which  you  are  now  guilty,  and  with  whom  you 
muft  have  your  everlafting  portion,  if,  like  them,  you 
continue  hardened  and  incorrigible  in  your  rebellion  ; 
in  the  name  of  that  compaffionate  God,  who  fent  his 
dear  Son  (O  the  tranfpoiting  thought !)  to  fatisfy  di- 
vine juftice  for  you  by  his  death,  and  the  precepts  of 

the 


Serm.  3.  be  reconciled  to  God.  151 

the  law  by  his  life,  and  thus  to  remove  all  obftrudions 
out  of  the  way  of  your  reconciliation  on  the  part  of 
God  •,  in  this  great,  this  endearing  and  tremendous 
name,  I  pray  you  be  reconciled  to  God.  I  pray  you 
for  his  fake;  and  has  this  name  no  weight  with  you  ? 
Will  you  do  nothing  for  his  fake  ?  what,  not  fo  rea- 
fonable  and  advantageous  a  thing  as  dropping  your 
unnatural  rebellion,  and  being  reconciled  to  him  ?  Is 
your  contempt  of  God  rifen  to  that  pitch  that  you  will 
not  do  the  moft  reafonable  and  profitable  thing  in  the 
world,  if  he  intreat  ycu  to  do  it  ?  Be  aftonifhed,  O 
ye  heavens  !  at  this. 

I  pray  you  both  in  the  name  and  for  the  fake  of 
Jefus  Chriil:,  the  true  friend  of  publicans  and  finners, 
in  his  name,  and  for  his  fake,  who  affumed  your  de- 
graded nature,  that  he  might  dignify  and  fave  it ;  who 
lived  a  life  of  labour,  poverty,  and  perfecution  upon 
earth,  that  you  m.ight  enjoy  a  life  of  everiafting  hap- 
pinefs  and  glory  in  heaven  -,  who  died  upon  a  tortur- 
ing crofs,  that  you  might  fit  upon  heavenly  thrones*, 
who  was  imprifoned  in  the  gloom.y  grave,  that  you 
might  enjoy  a  glorious  refurredlion ;  who  fell  a  vitflim 
to  divine  jufliice,  that  you  might  be  fet  free  from  its 
dreadful  arrefl:-,  who  felt  trouble  and  agony  of  foul, 
that  you  might  enjoy  the  fmiles,  the  pleafures  of  di- 
vine love ;  who,  in  fhort,  has  difcovered  more  ardent 
and  extenfive  love  for  you  than  all  the  friends  in  the 
world  can  do ;  in  his  name,  and  for  his  fake,  I  pray 
you  to  be  reconciled  to  God.     And  is  his  dear  name 
a  trifle  in  your  efteem  ?     Will  you  not  do  any  thing 
fo  reafonable  and  fo  necefiary,  and  conducive  to  your 
happinefs  for  his  fake  •,  for  his  fake  who  has  done  and 
fuffered  fo  much  for  you }     Alas !   has  the  name  of 
Jefus  no  more  influence  among  the  creatures  he  bought 
with  his  blood !      It  is  hard  indeed  if  I  beg  in  vain, 
when  I  beg  for  the  fake  of  Chrifl,  the  Friend,  the 
Saviour  of  perifliing  fouls. 

But  if  you  have  no  regard  for  him,  you  certainly 
have  for  yourfclves ;  therefore,  for  your  own  fakes, 

for 


c 


152  Sinners  intreated  to  Serm.  3, 

for  the  fake  of  your  precious  immortal  fouls,  for  the 
fake  of  your  own  everlafting  happinefs,  I  pray  you  to 
be  reconciled  to  God.  If  you  refufe,  you  degrade  the 
honour  of  your  nature,  and  commence  incarnate  de- 
vils. For  what  is  the  grand  coriftituent  of  a  devil  but 
enmity  againft  God  ^  You  become  the  refufe  of  the 
creation,  fit  for  no  apartment  of  the  univerfe  but  the 
prifon  of  hell.  While  you  are  unreconciled  to  God 
you  can  do  nothing  at  all  to  pleufe  him.  He  thatfear- 
ches  the  heart  knows  that  even  your  good  afcions  do 
not  proceed  from  love  to  him,  and  therefore  he  abhors 
them.  Ten  thoufand  prayers  and  ads  of  devotion 
and  morality,  as  you  have  no  principles  of  real  holi- 
nefs,  are  (o  many  provocations  to  a  righteous  God. 
While  you  refufe  to  be  reconciled,  you  are  acceflary 
to,  and  patronize  all  the  rebellion  of  men  and  devils  j 
for  if  you  have  a  right  to  continue  in  your  rebellion, 
why  may  not  others  .^  why  may  not  every  man  upon 
earth  ?  why  may  not  every  miferable  ghofl:  in  the  in- 
fernal regions  '^  And  are  you  for  raifing  an  univerfal 
mutiny  and  rebellion  againft  the  throne  of  the  moft 
High!  O  the  inexpreffible  horror  of  the  thought ! 
If  you  refufe  to  be  reconciled,  you  will  foon  weary 
out  the  mercy  and  patience  of  God  towards  you,  and 
he  will  come  forth  againft  you  in  all  the  terrors  of  an 
almighty  enemy.  He  will  give  death  a  coramiflion  to 
feize  you,  and  drag  you  to  his  flaming  tribunal.  He 
will  break  off  the  treaty,  and  never  make  you  one 
offer  of  reconciliation  more  :  he  will  ftrip  you  of  all 
the  enjoyments  he  was  pleafed  to  lend  you,  while  you 
were  under  a  reprieve,  and  the  treaty  was  not  come 
to  a  final  iffue ;  and  will  leave  you  nothing  but  bare 
being,  and  an  extenfive  capacity  of  mifery,  which 
will  be  filled  up  to  the  uttermoft  from  the  vials  of  his 
indignation.  He  will  treat  you  as  his  implacable  ene- 
my, and  you  fhall  be  to  him  as  Amalek^  Exod.  xvii, 
16.  v/ith  whom  he  will  make  war  for  ever  and  ever. 
He  will  reprove  you,  and  fee  vour  fins  in  order  before 
you,  and  tsar  you  in  pieces,  and  there  ftiall  be  none 

to 


Serm.  3.  he  reconciled  to  God.  15  j 

to  deliver.  He  will  meet  you  as  a  lion,  "  and  as  a 
bear  bereaved  of  her  whelps,  and  will  rend  the  caul 
of  your  hearts."  Hof  xiii.  B.  He  hath  for  a  long 
time  held  his  peace,  and  endured  your  rebellion-,  but 
ere  long  he  will  go  forth  as  a  mighty  man;  he  fliall 
ftir  up  jealoufy  like  a  man  of  warj  he  fhall  cry,  yea 
roar  -,  he  fhall  prevail  againft  his  enemies.  Ah  !  he 
will  eafe  him  of  his  adverfaries,  and  avenge  him  of 
his  enemies.  He  will  give  orders  to  the  executioners 
of  his  juftice  :  'Thefe  mine  enemies^  that  would  not  that 
1  jhoufd  reign  over  them,  bring  them  hither,  andjlay  them 
before  me.  Luke  xix.  27.  And  now,  if  you  will  not 
fubmit  to  peace,  prepare  to  meet  your  God,  O  fin- 
ners  -,  gird  up  your  loins  like  men;  put  on  all  the  ter- 
ror of  your  rage,  and  go  forth  to  meet  your  almighty 
adverfary,  who  will  foon  meet  you  in  the  field,  and 
try  your  ftrength.  Call  the  legions  of  hell  to  your 
aid,  and  strengthen  the  confederacy  with  all  your 
fellow-finners  upon  earth ;  put  briers  and  thorns 
around  you  to  inclofe  from  his  reach.  Prepare  the 
dry  ftubble  to  oppofe  devouring  fiame.  Aflbciate  your- 
felves,  but  ye  fhall  be  broken  in  pieces-,  gird  your-? 
felves  ;  but,  alas !   ye  fhall  be  broken  to  pieces. 

But  O  !  I  mufl  drop  this  ironical  challenge,  and 
ferioufly  pray  you  to  make  peace  with  him  whom  you. 
cannot  refift :  then  all  your  pail  rebellion  will  be 
forgiven  -,  you  fhall  be  the  favourites  of  your  fove- 
reign,  and  happy  for  ever ;  and  earth  and  heaven 
will  rejoice  at  the  conclufion  of  this  bleffed  peace; 
find  my  now  fad  heart  will  fhare  in  the  joy.  There- 
fore, for  your  own  fakes,  "  I  pray  you  to  be  recon- 
ciled to  God." 


SERMON 


S  E  R.  M  O  N     IV. 

The  Nature  and  Univerfality  of  Spiritual  Death. 


Ephes.  ii.  I.  and  5.     Who  were  dead  in  trefpajfes  and 
ftns. — K'ven  when  we  were  dead  in  fins, 

THERE  is  a  kind  of  death  which  we  all  cxpecfl 
to  feel  that  carries  terror  in  the  very  found,  and 
all  its  circumftances  are  fhocking  to  nature.  The 
ghaftly  countenance,  the  convulfive  agonies,  the  ex- 
piring groan,  the  cofHn,  the  grave,  the  devouring 
worm,  the  ftupor,  the  infenfibility,  the  univerfal  in- 
activity, thefe  ftrike  a  damp  to  the  fpirit,  and  we  turn 
pale  at  the  thought.  With  fuch  objecfls  as  thefe  in 
view,  courage  fails,  levity  looks  ferious,  prefumption 
is  dafhed,  the  cheerful  paflions  fink,  and  all  is  folemn, 
all  is  melancholy.  The  moft  ftupid  and  hardy  finner 
cannot  but  be  moved  to  fee  thefe  things  exemplified  in 
others  •,  and  vv^hen  he  cannot  avoid  the  profped,  he  is 
ihocked  to  think  that  he  himfelf  muft  feel  them. 

But  there  is  another  kind  of  death  little  regarded 
Indeed,  little  feared,  litde  lamented,  which  is  infinite- 
ly more  terrible— the  death,  not  of  the  body,  but  of 
the  foul :  a  death  which  does  not  ftupify  the  limbs, 
but  the  faculties  of  the  mind:  a  death  which  does  not 
feparate  the  foul  and  body,  and  confign  the  latter  to 
the  grave,  but  that  feparates  the  foul  from  God,  ex- 
cludes it  from  all  the  joys  of  his  prefence,  and  deli- 
vers it  over  to  everlafting  mifery :  a  tremendous  death 
indeed !  "  a  death  unto  death."  The  expreflion  of 
St.  Paul  is  prodigiouily  ftrong  and  ftriking  :  ©«i*r@>'  a? 
eai/alo;-,  Death  unto  death,  death  after  death,  in  a 
dreadful  fuccefTion,  and  the  lafl  more  terrible  than  the 
firil,  2  Cor.  ii.  16.  and  this  is  the  death  meant  in  my 
text,  dsad  in  trejpajj'es  and  fins. 

To 


Serrn.  4.    'The  Nature^  &c.  of  fpr'itual  'Death.         155 

To  explain  the  context  and  fhew  you  the  connec- 
tion, I  fhalJ  make  two  fhort  remarks. 

The  one  is,  That  the  apoftle  had  obferved  in  the 
nineteenth  and  twentieth  verfes  of  the  forgoing  chap- 
ter, that  the  fame  almighty  power  of  God,  which 
raifed  Chrift  from  the  dead,  is  exerted  to  enable  a  fin- 
ner  to  believe — We  believe^  fays  he,  according  to  the 
working  or  energy  EvEpyaav  of  his  mighty  power  which  he 
wrought  in  Chrift^  when  he  raifed  him  from  the  dead. 
The  one,  as  well  as  the  other,  is  an  exploit  of  omni- 
potence. The  exceeding  greatnefs  of  his  mighty 
power  is  exerted  towards  us  that  believe,  as  well  as  it 
was  upon  the  dead  body  o{  Chrift  to  reftore  it  to  life, 
after  it  had  been  torn  and  mangled  upon  the  crofs, 
and  lain  three  days  and  three  nights  in  the  grave. 
What  i-brong  language  is  this  !  what  a  forcible  illuftra- 
tion!  Methinks  this  paflage  alone  is  fufBcient  to  con- 
found all  the  vanity  and  felf-fufficiency  of  mortals, 
and  entirely  deftrov  the  proud  fidlion  of  a  felf-fprung 
faith  produced  by  the  efforts  of  degenerate  nature. 
In  my  text  the  apoftle  affigns  the  reafon  of  this.  The 
fame  exertion  of  the  fame  power  is  neceffary  in  the 
one  cafe  and  the  other  •,  becaufe,  as  the  body  of  Chrift 
was  dead,  and  had  no  principle  of  life  in  it,  fo,  fays 
he,  ye  were  dead  in  trefpafjes  and  fins  •,  and  therefore 
could  no  more  quicken  yourfelves  than  a  dead  body 
can  reftore  itfelf  to  life.  But  God^  verfe  4th,  who  is 
rich  in  mercy ^  for  his  great  love  wherewith  he  loved  us  \ 
that  God,  who  raifed  the  entomed  Redeemer  to  life 
again,  that  fame  almighty  God,  by  a  like  exertion  of 
rhe  fame  pov/er,  hath  quickened  us,  verfe  5th,  even 
when  we  were  dead  in  ftns»  dead,  fenfelefs,  inadivc, 
and  incapable  of  animating  ourfelves.  Let  any  man 
carefully  read  thefe  verfes,  and  confider  their  moft  na- 
tural meaning,  and  I  cannot  but  think  common  fenfe 
will  diredt  him  thus  to  underftand  them.  The  fcrip- 
tures  were  written  with  a  defign  to  be  underflood ;  and 
therefore  that  fenfe  which  is  the  moft  natural  to  a  plain 
unprejudiced  underftanding  is  moft  Jikelv  to  be  true. 

The 


1^6  The  Nature  and  Unherfality         Serm.  4:.- 

The  other  remark  is,  That  the  apoftle  having  pro- 
nounced the  Ephefians  dead  in  fin,  while  unconverted, 
in  the  firft  verfe,  pafies  the  fame  fentence  upon  himfelf 
and  the  whole  body  of  the  Jews,  notwithftanding  the'r 
high  privileges,  in  the  fifth  verfe.  The  fenfe  and  con- 
nexion may  be  difcovered  in  the  following  paraphrale : 
"  You  Ephefians  were  very  lately  Heathens,  and, 
while  you  were  in  that  ftate,  you  were  fpiritually  dead, 
and  all  your  aftions  were  dead  works.  In  time  pail 
ye  walked  in  trefpafies  and  fins,  nor  v/ere  you  fingular 
in  your  courfe  :  though  it  be  innrjtely  pernicious,  yet 
it  is  the  common  courfe  of  this  world,  and  it  is  alfo 
agreeable  to  the  temper  and  inftigation  of  that  gloomy 
prince,  who  has  a  peculiar  power  in  the  region  of  the 
air  J  that  malignant  (pirit  who  works  with  dreadful 
efficacy  in  the  numerous  children  of  difobedience  •,  but 
this  was  not  the  cafe  of  you  Heathens  alone  :  we  alfo 
who  are  Jews,  notwithftanding  our  many  religious 
advantages,  and  even  I  myfeif,  notwithllanding  miy 
high  privileges  and  unblemifhable  life  as  a  Pharifee, 
we  alfo,  I  fay,  had  our  converfation  in  times  paft 
anlong  the  children  of  difobedience ;  we  all,  as  well 
as  they,  walked  in  the  lufts  of  the  fiefh,  fulfilling  the 
defires  and  inclinations  (Oe^V*^'^)  of  our  fenfual  fiefh, 
and  of  our  depraved  minds ;  for  thefc  were  tainted 
with  fpiritual  wickednefs,  independent  upon  our  ani- 
mal paflions  and  appetites  -,  and  we  were  all,  even  by 
nature,  children  of  wrath,  even  as  others  :  in  this 
refpe^L  we  Jews  were  ]ufi:  like  the  reft  of  mankind,  cor- 
rupt from  our  very  birth,  tranfgreflbrs  from  the  womb, 
and  liable  to  the  wrath  of  God.  Our  external  relation 
and  privileges  as  the  peculiar  people  of  God,  diftin- 
guifhed  with  a  religion  from  heaven,  makes  no  dif- 
tindion  between  us  and  others  in  this  matter.  As  we 
are  all  children  of  difobedience  by  our  lives,  fo  we  are 
all,  without  exception,  children  of  wrath  by  nature : 
but  when  we  are  all  dead  in  fins,  when  Jews  and  Gen-^ 
tiles  were  equally  dead  to  God,  then,  even  then,  God, 
who  is  rich  in  mercy,  had  pity  upon  us ;  he  quickened 


Serm.  4-  of  fpiritual  Death.  I5*r 

us ;  "  he  infpired  us  with  a  new  and  fpiritual  life  by 
his  own  almighty  power,  which  raifed  the  dead  body 
of  Chrill:  from  the  grave."  He  quickened  us  together 
with  Chriji :  "  Wc  received  our  life  by  virtue  of  our 
union  with  him  as  our  vital  head,  who  was  raifed  to 
an  immortal  life,  that  he  might  quicken  dead  fouls  by 
thofe  influences  of  his  fpirit,  which  he  purchafed  by 
his  death;  and  therefore  by  grace  are  ye  faved.  It  is 
the  pureft,  richeft,  freeft  grace,  that  ever  fuch  der.d 
fouls  as  we  were  made  alive  to  God,  and  not  fuffered 
to  remain  dead  for  ever." 

This  is  the  obvious  meaning  and  connexion  of  thefe 
verfes;  and  we  now  proceed  to  confider  the  text.  Dead 
in  trefpajfes  and  fins ;  you  dead,  we  dead,  Jews  and 
Gentiles,  all  dead  together  in  trefpaJJ'es  and  fins.  A 
difmal,  mortifying  character  '  "  This  one  place,"  fays 
Beza,  "  like  a  thunder-bolt,  dafhes  all  mankind  down 
to  the  duft,  great  and  proud  as  they  are  -,  for  it  pro- 
nounces their  nature  not  only  hurt  but  dead  by  fin, 
and  therefore  liable  to  wrath."* 

Death  is  ■  ftate  of  infenfibility  and  inaflivity,  and 
a  dead  man  is  incipahle  of  reftoring  himfelf  to  life ; 
therefore  the  condition  of  an  unconverted  iinner  muft 
have  fome  refemblance  to  fuch  a  ftate,  in  order  to  fup- 
port  the  bold  metaphor  here  ufed  by  the  apoftle.  To 
underftand  it  aright  we  muft  take  care,  on  the  one 
hand,  that  we  do  not  explain  it  away  in  flattery  to  our- 
felves,  or  in  compliment  to  the  pride  of  human  na- 
ture: and,  on  the  other  hand,  that  we  do  not  carry 
the  fimilitude  too  far,  fo  as  to  lead  into  abfurdities, 
and  contradid  matter  of  fad. 

The  metaphor  muft  be  underftood  with  feveral  li- 
mitations or  exceptions ;  for  it  is  certain  there  is  a  wide 
difi^erence  between  the  fpiritual  death  of  the  foul,  and 
the  natural  death  of  the  body,  particularly  in  this  re- 
fped,  that  death  puts  an  entire  end  to  all  the  powers, 

actions, 

*  "  Hoc  uno  loco,  quafi  fulmine,  totus  homo,  quantus  quantus 
eft  profternitur.  Neque  enim  naturam  aicit  laefam,  fed  mortuarn, 
per  peccatum ;  ideoque  ir^e  obnoxiam." 


15S  The  Nature  end  Univerfality  Serm.  4,'^ 

aftions,  and  fenfatlons  of  our  animal  nature  univer- 
fally,  with  regard  to  all  objeils  of  every  kind  :  but  a 
foul  dead  in  fin  is  only  partially  dead  j  that  is,  it  is 
dead  only  with  regard  to  a  certain  kind  of  fenfations 
and  exercifes,  but  in  the  mean  time  it  may  be  all  life 
and  adivity  about  other  things.  It  is  alive,  fenfible, 
and  vigorous  about  earthly  obje(5ls  and  purfuits ;  thefe 
raife  its  paffions  and  engage  its  thoughts.  It  has  alfo 
a  dreadful  power  and  faculty  of  finning,  though  this 
is  not  its  life  but  its  difeafe,  its  death,  like  the  ten- 
dency of  a  dead  body  to  corruption.  It  can  likewife 
exercife  its  intelledlual  powers,  and  make  confiderable 
improvements  in  fcience.  A  finner  dead  in  trefpaffes 
and  fins  may  be  a  living  treafury  of  knowledge,  an 
iiniverfal  fcholar,  a  profound  philofopher,  and  even  a 
great  divine,  as  far  as  mere  fpeculative  knowledge  caii 
render  him  fuch  j  nay,  he  is  capable  of  many  fenfations 
and  impreffions  from  religious  objecfls,  and  of  per- 
forming all  the  external  duties  of  religion,  lie  is 
able  to  read,  to  hear,  to  pray,  to  meditate  upon  di- 
vine things  ;  nay,  he  may  be  an  inftrudtor  of  others, 
and  preach  perhaps  with  extenfive  popularity  :  he  may 
have  a  form  of  godlinefs,  and  obtain  a  name  to  live 
among  men :  he  is  in  fome  meafure  able,  and  it  is  his 
duty  to  attend  upon  the  means  God  has  inftituted  for 
quickening  him  with  fpiritual  life,  and  God  deals  with 
him  as  with  a  rational  creature,  by  laws,  fandlions, 
promifes,  expoftulations,  and  invitations:  thefe  con - 
ceffions  I  make,  not  only  to  give  you  the  fenfe  of  the 
text,  but  alfo  to  prevent  the  abufe  of  the  docftrine, 
and  anticipate  fome  objections  againft  it,  as  though  it 
were  an  encouragement  to  continue  idle,  and  ufe  no 
means  to  obtain  fpiritual  life  :  or  as  though  it  render- 
ed all  the  means  of  grace  needlefs  and  abfurd,  like  ar- 
guments to  the  dead,  to  reftore  themfelves  to  life. 
But,  notwithftanding  all  thefe  conceffions,  it  is  a  me- 
lancholy truth  that  an  unregenerate  finner  is  dead. 
Though  he  can  commit  fin  with  greedinefs,  though  he 
is  capable  o^  animal  adions  and  fecular  purfuits,  nay, 

though 


Serm.  4'  of  fpiritual  Death.  159 

though  he  can  employ  his  mind  even  about  intelledual 
and  fpiritual  things,  and  is  capable  of  performing  the 
external  duties  of  religion,  yet  there  is  fomething  in 
religion  with  regard  to  which  he  is  entirely  dead : 
there  is  a  kind  of  fpiritual  life  of  which  he  is  entirely 
deftitute  :  he  is  habitually  infenfible  with  regard  to 
things  divine  and  eternal :  he  has  no  adlivity,  no  vi- 
gour in  the  pure,  fpiritual,  and  vital  exercifes  of  reli- 
gion :  he  has  no  pravailing  bent  of  mind  towards 
them:  he  .has  not  thofe  views  and  apprehenfions  of 
things  which  a  foul  fpiritually  alive  would  neceffarily 
receive  and  entertain :  he  is  deftitute  of  thofe  facred 
affedions,  that  joy,  that  love,  that  defire,  that  hope, 
that  fear,  that  forrow,  which  are,  as  it  were,  the  in- 
nate pailions  of  the  new  man.  In  (hort,  he  Is  fo  in- 
adive,  fb  liftlefs,  fo  infenfible  in  thefe  refpeds,  that 
death,  which  puts  an  end  to  all  adion  and  fenfation, 
is  a  proper  emblem  of  his  ftate  ;  and  this  is  the  mean- 
ing of  the  apoftle  in  my  text.  He  is  alfo  utterly  un- 
able to  quicken  himfelf.  He  may  indeed  ufe  means 
in  fome  fort;  but  to  implant  a  vital  principle  in  his 
foul,  but  to  give  himfelf  vivid  fenfations  of  divine 
things,  and  make  himfelf  alive  towards  God,  this  is 
entirely  beyond  his  utmoft:  ability  :  this  Is  as  peculiarly 
the  work  of  almighty  power  as  the  refurrec^ion  of  a 
dead  body  from  the  grave.  As  to  this  death  it  is 
brought  upon  him  by  and  confifts  In  trefpajjes  and  fins. 
The  innate  depravity  and  corruption  of  the  heart,  and 
the  habits  of  fin  contracted  and  confirmed  by  repeated 
indulgences  of  Inbred  corruption,  thefe  are  the  poi- 
fonous,  deadly  things  that  have  flain  the  foul ;  thefe 
have  entirely  indifpofed  and  difabled  it  for  living  reli- 
gion. Trefpafjes  and  fins  are  the  grave,  the  corrupt 
effluvia,  the  malignant  damps,  the  rottennefs  of  a  dead 
foul :  it  lies  dead,  fenfelefs,  inadlve,  buried  in  tref- 
pafj'es  and  fins.  Trefpaffes  and  fins  x^vAtx  It  ghaftly, 
odious,  abominable,  a  noifome  putrefaction  before  an  • 
holy  God,  like  a  rotten  carcafs,  or  a  mere  mafs  of 
corruption:  the  vilell  lulls,  hke  v/orms,  riot  upon  and 

devour 


i6o  The  Nature  andUniverfality  Serm.  4., 

devour  it,  but  it  feels  them  not,  nor  can  it  lift  a  hand 
to  drive  the  venom  off.  Such  mortifying  ideas  as 
thefe  may  be  contained  in  the  ilriking  metaphor,  dead 
in  trefpajfes  andftns  •,  and  I  hope  you  now  underftand 
its  general  meaning. 

If  you  would  know  what  has  turned  my  thoughts 
to  this  fubje(5t,  I  will  candidly  tell  you,  though  with 
a  forrowful  heart.  I  am  fure,  if  any  objeds  within 
the  compafs  of  human  knowledge  have  a  tendency  to 
make  the  deepeft  impreffions  upon  our  minds,  they 
are  thofe  things  which  chriftianity  teaches  us  concern- 
ing God,  concerning  ourfelves,  and  a  future  ftate ; 
and  if  there  be  any  exercifes  which  fhould  call  forth 
all  the  life  and  powers  of  our  fouls  into  action,  they 
are  thofe  of  a  religious  nature :  but,  alas  !  I  often 
find  a  ftrange,  aftonifhing  ftupor  and  liftleflhefs  about 
thefe  things.  In  this  I  am  not  fingular  •,  the  beft 
amonsj  us  complain  of  the  fame  thing  •,  the  moft  lively 
Chriftians  feel  this  unaccountable  langour  and  infenfi- 
bility ;  and  the  generaHty  are  evidently  deftitute  of  all 
habitual  concern  about  them  :  they  are  all  alive  in  the 
purfuit  of  pleafure,  riches,  or  honours-,  their  thoughts 
are  eafily  engaged,  and  their  affe6lions  raifed  by  fuch 
things  as  thefe  :  but  the  concerns  of  religion,  which, 
above  all  other  things  are  adapted  to  make  imprelTions 
upon  them,  and  ftir  up  all  die  life  within  them,  feem 
to  have  little  or  no  efFed.  When  I  have  made  this 
obfervation  with  refped;  to  others,  and  felt  the  melan- 
choly confirmation  of  it  in  my  own  breaft,  I  have 
really  been  ftruck  with  amazement,  and  ready  to  cry 
out,  "  Lord,  what  is  this  that  has  befallen  me,  and 
the  reft  of  my  fellow  mortals  ?  what  can  be  the  caufe 
of  fuch  a  conduct  in  a  rational  nature,  to  be  adive  and 
eager  about  trifles,  and  ftupid  and  carelefs  about  mat- 
ters of  infinite  importance  t  O  whence  is  this  ftrange 
infatuation  !"  Thus  I  have  been  ftiocked  at  this  afto- 
nifhing  fad,  and  I  could  account  for  it  in  no  other  way 
but  by  refleding  that  we  have  all  been  dead  in  trejpajf'es 
and  fins. — In  fuch  a  folemn  hour  the  apoftle's  expref- 

fion 


Serm.  4.  of  fpiritual  Death.  jSt 

fion  does  not  feem  at  all  too  ftrons;-.     I  have  no  fcru- 
pie  at  all  to  pronounce,  not  only  from  the  authority  of 
an  apoftie,  but  from  the  evidence  of  the  thing,  that 
I,  and  all  around  me,  yea,  and  all  the  fons  of  men 
have  been  dead  •,  in  the  fpiritual  fenfe,  utterly  dead. 
Multitudes   among  us,  yea,  the  generality  are  dead 
ftill ;    hence   the  ftillnefs   about   religion   among  us ; 
hence  the  ftupor,  the  careleiTnefs  about  eternal  things, 
the  thoughtlefs  negled  of  God,  the  infenfibility  under 
his   providential  difpenfations,   the  impenitence,  the 
prefumption  that  (o  much  prevail.     God  has  indeed, 
out  of  the  great  love  wherewith  he  loved  us,  quicken- 
ed fome  of  us,  even  when  we  were  dead  in  fins  ;  and 
we  have  a  little  life,  fome  vital  fenfations  and  impref- 
fions  at  times,  but  O  !   how  little,   how  fuperhciai, 
how  much  of  a  deadly  ftupor  yet  remains !  how  little 
life  in  prayer,  in  hearing,  or  in  the  neareft  approach 
to  the  living  God  !     The  refiecftion  is  fliocking,  but, 
alas  !   it  is  too  true  •,  confult  your  own  hearts  and  you 
will  find  it  even  fo.    Animal  life  feems  to  be  a  gradual 
thing  ;  it  gradually  grows  in  an  infant,  it  is  perfedl  in 
mature  age,  and  in  old  age  it  gradually  decays,  till  all 
is  gone  •,   but  how  fmall  is  the  degree  of  life  when  the 
foetus  is  juft  animated,  or  the  infant   born   into  the 
world!   but   little  fuperior  to  that  of  a  plant  or   an 
oyfter.     What  faint  fenfations,  what  obfcure  and  lan- 
guid perceptions,  what  feeble  motions  1     Such  are  the 
children  of  grace  in  the  prefent  ftate.     Spiritual  life 
is  gradual ;  it  is  infufed  in  regeneration  ;  but  O  !  how 
far  from  perfedion  while  on  this  fide  heaven  !     Alas  ! 
the  bcft  of  us  are  like  the  poor  traveller  that  fell  among 
thieves,  and  was  left  half  dead  :  however,  it  is  an 
unfpeakable  mercy  to  have  the  leaft  principle  of  fpi- 
ritual life  ;  and  we  fhould  prize  it  more  than'  crowns 
and  empires. 

If  you  would  know  my  defign  in  choofing  this  fub- 
jed:,  it  is  partly  for  the  convidion  of  (inners,  that 
they  may  be  alarmed  with  their  deplorable  condition, 
which  is  the  firft  ftep  towards  their  being  quickened  •, 

y  "  partly 


362  The  Nature  and  Univerfality         Serm.  4. 

partly  to  roufe  the  children  of  grace  to  feek  more  life 
from  their  vital  head ;  and  partly  to  difplay  the  rich 
gr*e  of  God  in  quickening  fuch  dead  fmners,  and 
beilicwing  upon  them  a  fpiritual  and  immortal  life ; 
and  furely  nothing  can  inflame  our  gratitude  and  raife 
our  wonder  more  than  the  confederation  that  we  were 
dead  in  trefpafies  and  fins  !  If  I  may  but  anfwer  tliefe 
ends,  it  will  be  an  unfpeakable  bleffing  to  us  all.    And 

0  that  divine  grace  may  honour  this  humble  attempt 
of  a  poor  creature,  at  beft  but  half  alive,  with  fuccefs ! 

1  hope,  my  brethren,  you  will  hear  ferioufly,  for  it 
is  really  a  mod  ferious  fubjedt. 

You  have  feen  that  the  metaphorical  expreflion  in 
my  text  is  intended  to  reprefent  the  ftupidity,  inafti- 
vity,  and  impotence  of  unregencrate  finners  about  di- 
vine things.  This  trutli  I  might  confirm  by  argument 
and  fcripture-authority  ;  but  I  think  it  may  be  a  better 
method  for  popular  convidion  to  prove  and  illuflrate 
it  from  plain  inftances  of  the  temper  and  condudl  of 
finners  about  the  concerns  of  religion,  as  this  may 
force  the  conviction  upon  them  from  undoubted  mat- 
ters of  fad;  and  their  own  experience.  This,  there- 
fore, is  the  method  I  intend  to  purfue ;  and  my  time 
will  allow  me  to  particularize  only  the  following  in- 
ftances. 

I.  Confider  the  excellency  of  the  divine  Being,  the 
fum  total,  the  great  original  of  all  perfedions.  How 
infinitely  worthy  is  he  of  the  adoration  of  all  his  crea- 
tures !  how  deferving  of  their  moft  intenfe  thoughts 
and  moft  ardent  affecfllons !  If  majefty  and  glory  can 
ftrike  us  with  awe  and  veneration,  does  not  Jehovah 
demand  them,  who  is  clothed  with  majefty  and  glory 
as  with  a  garment,  and  before  whom  all  the  inhabit- 
ants of  the  earth  are  as  grafs-hoppers,  as  nothing,  as 
lefs  than  nothing,  and  vanity  ^  If  wifdom  excites  our 
pleafing  wonder,  here  is  an  unfathomable  depth.  O 
the  depth  of  the  riches  of  the  wifdom  and  knowledge 
of  God !  If  goodnefs,  grace,  and  mercy  attradl  our 
love  and  gratitude,  here  thefc  amiable  perfedlons  fiiine 

in 


Serm.  4.  of  fpiritual  Death.  1 63 

in  their  moft  alluring  glories.  If  juftice  ftrikesadamp 
to  the  guilty,  here  is  juftice  in  all  its  tremendous  ma- 
jefty.  If  veracity,  if  candour,  if  any,  or  all  of  the 
mofal  virtues  engage  our  efteem,  here  they  all  center 
in  their  higheft  perfedion.  If  the  prefence  of  a  king 
ftrikes  a  reverence;  if  the  eye  of  his  judge  awes  the 
criminal,  and  reftrains  him  from  offending,  certainly 
we  fhould  fear  before  the  Lord  all  the  day,  for  we  are 
furrounded  with  his  omniprefence,  and  he  is  the  In- 
fpsdlor  and  Judge  of  all  our  thoughts  and  anions.  ]? 
riches  excite  defire,  here  are  unfearchable  riches  :  if 
happinefs  has  charms  that  draw  all  the  world  after  it, 
here  is  an  unbounded  ocean  of  happinefs ^  here  is  the 
only  complete  portion  for  an  immortal  mind.  Men 
are  affeded  with  thefe  things  in  one  another,  though 
found  in  a  very  imperfect  degree.  Power  awes  and 
commands  •,  virtue  and  goodnefs  pleafe  j  beauty  charms ; 
juitice  ftrikes  with  folemnity  and  terror;  a  bright  ge-r 
nius  is  admired  -,  a  benevolent  merciful  temper  is  lov- 
ed :  thus  men  are  affefted  with  created  excellencies. 
Whence  is  it  then  they  are  fo  ftupidly  unaffedled  with 
the  fupreme  original  excellencies  of  Jehovah  ^  Here, 
my  brethren,  turn  your  eyes  inward  upon  yourfelves, 
and  enquire,  are  not  feveral  of  you  confcious  that, 
though  you  have  paffions  for  fuch  objeds  as  thefe,  and 
you  are  eaflly  moved  by  them,  yet,  with  regard  to  the 
perfections  of  the  fupreme  and  beft  of  beings,  your 
hearts  are  habitually  fenfelefs  and  unaffeded.  It  is  not 
an  eafy  thing  to  make  impreftions  upon  you  by  them  ; 
and  what  increafes  the  wonder,  and  aggravates  your 
guilt,  is,  that  you  are  thus  fenfelefs  and  unaifeifled^ 
when  you  believe  and  profefs  that  thefe  perfedlions 
are  really  in  God,  and  that  in  the  higheft  degree  pof- 
ftble.  In  other  cafes  you  can  love  what  appears  amia- 
ble, you  revere  what  is  great  and  majeftic,  you  eager- 
ly defire  and  purfue  what  is  valuable,  and  tends  to  your 
happinefs  -,  and  all  this  you  do  freely,  fpontaneoufty, 
vigoroufly,  by  the  innate  inclination  and  tendency  of 
your  nature,  v/ithout  reludance,  without  compulfion, 

nay, 


1 64  i'he  Nature  and  Univerfality  Serm.  4.^ 

nay,  without  perfuafion ;  but  as  to  God  and  all  his 
perfections,  you  are  ftrangely  infenfible,  backward, 
and  averfe.  Where  is  there  one  being  that  has  any 
confefled  excellency  in  the  compafs  of  human  know- 
ledge, that  does  not  engage  more  of  the  thoughts  and 
aiFedions  of  mankind  than  the  glorious  and  ever  blef- 
fed  God  ?  The  fun,  moon,  and  ftars,  have  had  more 
worfhippers  than  the  uncreated  fountain  of  light  from 
which  they  derive  their  luftre.  Kings,  and  minifters 
of  ftate,  have  more  pun6tual  homage  and  frequent 
applications  made  to  them  than  the  King  of  kings, 
and  Lord  of  lords.  Created  enjoyments  are  more  ea- 
gerly purfued  than  the  fupreme  Good.  Search  all  the 
world  over,  and  you  will  find  but  very  little  motions 
of  heart  towards  God ;  little  love,  little  defire,  little 
fearching  after  him.  You  will  often,  indeed,  fee  him 
honoured  with  the  compliment  of  a  bended  knee,  and 
a  few  heartlefs  v/ords,  under  the  name  of  a  prayer  •, 
but  where  is  the  heart,  or  where  are  the  thoughts, 
where  the  afreftions  .?  Thefe  run  wild  through  the 
world,  and  are  fcattered  among  a  thoufand  other  ob- 
jeds.  The  heart  has  no  prevailing  tendency  toward 
God,  the  thoughts  are  fhy  of  him,  the  affedions  have 
no  innate  propenfity  to  him.  In  fhort,  in  this  refped: 
the  whole  man  is  out  of  order  :  here  he  does  not  at  all 
a6l  like  himfelf ;  here  are  no  affedionate  thoughts,  no 
delightful  meditations,  no  ardent  defires,  no  eager 
purfuits  and  vigorous  endeavours,  but  all  is  liftlefs, 
ftupid,  indifpofed,  inadive,  and  averfe;  and  what  is 
the  matter  ? — "  Lord  !  what  is  this  that  has  feized  the 
fouls  of  thine  own  offspring,  that  they  are  thus  utter- 
ly difordered  towards  thee  !"  The  reafon  is,  they  are 
dead,  dead  in  trefpafjes  andftns.  It  is  impoffible  a  liv- 
ing foul  fhould  be  fo  ftupid  and  unaffedled  with  fuch 
an  objed  :  it  muft  be  a  dead  foul  that  has  no  feeling. 
Yes,  finners,  this  is  the  melancholy  reafon  why  you 
are  fo  thoughdefs,  fo  unconcerned,  fo  fenfelefs  about 
the  God  that  made  you  •,  you  are  dead.  And  what  is 
-^t  reafon  that  you  who  have  been  begotten  again  to 

afpi- 


Serm.  4-  of  fpiritual  Death.  165 

a  fpiritual  life,  and  who  are  united  to  Chrifl:  as  your 
vital  head,  what  is  the  reafon  that  you  fo  often  feel 
fuch  languifhments ;  that  the  pulfe  of  fpiritual  life 
beats  fo  faint  and  irregular,  and  that  its  motions  are  fo 
feeble  and  flow  ?  All  this  you  feel  and  lament,  but 
how  comes  it  to  pafs  ?  what  can  be  the  caufe  that  you 
who  have  indeed  tafted  that  the  Lord  is  gracious,  and 
are  fenfible  that  he  is  all-glorious  and  lovely,  and  your 
only  happinefs  ?  O  !  what  can  be  the  caufe,  that  you, 
of  all  men  in  the  world,  fliould  be  fo  little  engaged  to 
him  ?  Alas  !  the  caufe  is,  you  have  been  dead,  and 
the  deadly  ftupor  has  not  yet  left  you  :  you  have  (blef- 
fed  be  the  quickening  fpirit  of  Chrift  !)  you  have  re- 
ceived a  little  life;  but,  alas  !  it  is  a  feeble  fpark  •,  it 
finds  the  principles  of  death  ftill  ftrong  in  your  confti- 
tution  ;  thefe  it  muft  {Iruggle  with,  and  by  them  it  is 
often  borne  down,  fuppreffed,  and  juft  expiring.  Walk 
humbly,  then,  and  remember  your  (hame,  that  you 
were  once  dead,  and  children  of  wrath,  even  as  others. 
The  carelelTnefs  and  indifpofition  of  the  foul  towards 
the  fupreme  excellence  will  appear  yet  more  evident 
and  aftonifliing,  if  we  confider, 

II.  The  auguit  and  endearing  relations  the  great 
and  blefled  God  fuftains  to  us,  and  the  many  ways  he 
has  taken  to  make  dutiful  and  grateful  impreffions 
upon  our  hearts.  What  tender  endearments  are  there 
contained  in  the  relation  of  a  Father  !  This  he  bears 
to  us :  he  made  us^  and  not  we  ourfehes.  Our  bodies 
indeed  are  produced  in  a  fucceflion  from  Adam  by  ge- 
neration, but  who  was  it  that  began  the  feries  ?  It  was 
the  Almighty,  who  formed  the  firft  man  of  the  dull : 
it  was  he  v/ho  firft  put  the  fucceiTion  of  caufes  in  mo- 
tion ',  and  therefore  he  is  the  grand  original  caufe,  and 
the  whole  chain  depends  upon  him.  Who  was  it  that 
firft  eftablifticd  the  laws  of  generation,  and  ftill  conti- 
nues them  in  force  ?  It  is  the  all-creating  Parent  of 
nature  •,  and  without  him  men  would  have  been  no 
more  able  to  produce  one  another  than  ftones  or  clods 
As  to  our  fouls,  the  principal  part  of  our 

perfons. 


1 66  ^he  Nature  and  Univerfality  Serm.  4% 

perfons,  God  is  their  immediate  author,  without  the 
leaft  concurrence  of  fecondary  caufes.  Hence  he  is 
called  the  Father  of  your  fpirits  in  a  pecuHar  fenfe, 
Heb.  xii.  9.  and  he  aflumes  the  endearing  name  of 
"  the  God  of  the  fpirits  of  all  flefh."  Numb.  xvi.  22. 
Now  the  name  of  a  father  is  wont  to  carry  fome  en- 
dearment and  authority.  Children,  efpecially  in  their 
young  and  helplefs  years,  are  fond  of  their  father  j 
their  little  hearts  beat  with  a  thoufand  grateful  paffions 
towards  him ;  they  love  to  be  dandled  on  his  knees, 
and  fondled  in  his  arms:  and  they  fly  to  him  upon 
every  appearance  of  danger;  but  if  God  be  a  father, 
where  is  his  honour  ?  here,  alas  '  the  filial  paffions 
are  fenfelefs  and  immoveable.  It  is  but  a  little  time 
flnce  we  came  from  his  creating  hand,  and  yet  we 
have  forgotten  him.  It  feems  unnatural  for  his  own 
offspring  to  enquire  "  where  is  God  my  Maker  ?'* 
They  (hew  no  fondnefs  for  him,  no  affedlionate  vene- 
ration, and  no  humble  confidence ;  their  hearts  are 
dead  towards  him,  as  though  there  v/ere  no  fuch  be- 
ing, or  no  fuch  near  relation  fubfifting  between  them. 
In  childhood  a  rattle,  or  a  ftraw,  or  any  trifle,  is  more 
thought  of  than  their  heavenly  Father :  in  riper  years 
their  vain  pleafures  and  fecular  purfuits  command  more 
of  their  affeftions  than  their  divine  original  and  only 
happinefs. 

Compare  your  natural  temper  towards  your  heaven- 
ly Father,  and  towards  your  earthly  parents,  and  how 
wide  is  the  difl^erence  !  Nature  works  flirong  in  your 
hearts  towards  them,  but  towards  him  all  the  filial 
paffions  are  dull  and  dead  ;  and  why .''  alas  !  the  rea- 
fon  is,  you  are  dead  in  trefpajfes  andjins.  But  this  re- 
lation of  a  Father  is  not  the  only  relation  our  God 
fufi:ains  to  you;  he  is  your  fupreme  King,  to  whom 
you  owe  allegiance  ;  your  Lawgiver,  whofe  will  is  the 
rule  of  your  condud;  and  your  Judge,  who  will  call 
you  to  an  account,  and  reward  or  punifli  you  accord- 
ing to  your  works;  but  how  unnatural  is  it  to  men  to 
revere  the  moft  high  God  under  thefe  augufl:  charac- 
ters ! 


Serm.  4-  of  fpiritual  Death.  iGy 

ters  !  Where  is  there  a  king  upon  earth,  however 
weak  or  tyrannical,  but  is  more  regarded  by  his  fub- 
jedts  than  the  King  of  heaven  by  the  generality  of 
men  ?  Wherever  fuch  excellent  laws  contemned  and 
violated  ?  Did  ever  criminals  treat  their  judge  with 
fo  much  neglect  and  contempt  ?  And  are  thefe  fouls 
alive  to  God  who  thus  treat  him  ?  No.  Alas  !  "  they 
are  dead  in  trefpafles  and  fins  i"  however  lively  they 
are  towards  other  things,  yet  in  this  refped:  they  are 
feized  with  a  deadly  ftupor.  God  is  alfo  our  Guardian 
and  Deliverer  •,  and  from  how  many  dangers  has  he 
preferved  us  !  from  how  many  calamities  has  he  deli- 
vered us  !  Dangers,  diftrefles,  and  deaths  crov/d  upon 
us,  and  furround  us  in  every  age  and  every  place  :  the 
air,  the  earth,  the  fea,  and  every  element  are  pregnant 
with  numberlefs  principles  of  pain  and  death  ready  to 
feiz-e  and  deftroy  us  :  ficknefs  and  death  fwarm  around 
us :  nay,  they  lie  in  ambuili  in  our  own  conftitution, 
and  are  perpetually  undermining  our  lives,  and  yet 
our  divine  Guardian  preferves  us  for  months  and  years 
unhurt,  untouched ;  or,  if  he  fuffers  the  calamity  to 
fall,  or  death  to  threaten,  he  flies  to  our  deliverance  ; 
and  how  many  falvations  of  this  kind  has  he  wrought 
for  us  i  falvations  from  accidents,  from  fickneffes,  from 
pain,  from  forrows,  from  death;  falvations  for  our 
perfons  and  our  pofTeflions,  for  ourfelves,  and  for  our 
friends  and  relations ;  falvations  from  dangers  {qqw  and 
unfeen  j  falvations  in  infancy,  in  youth,  and  in  ma- 
turer  years  !  Thefe  things  we  cannot  deny  without 
the  mod  ftupid  ignorance,  and  an  atheiftical  difbelief 
of  divine  Providence.  Now,  fuch  repeated,  fuch 
long-continued,  fuch  unmerited  favours  as  thefe  would 
not  pafs  for  nothing  between  man  and  man.  We  have 
hearts  to  feel  fuch  obligations  •,  nay,  the  ten  thoufandth, 
the  millionth  part  of  fuch  gracious  care  and  goodnefs 
would  be  gratefully  refented,  and  thankfully  acknow- 
ledged. Indeed  it  is  impoffible  we  fhould  receive  even 
this  fmall,  this  very  fmall  proportion  of  favours  from 
m^n  in  coraparifon  of  what  we  receive   from   God; 

and 


1 68  J'he  Nature  and  Univerfalily  Serin.  4^ 

and  even  when  they  are  the  inftruments  of  our  deli- 
verance, he  is  the  original  Author.  But  after  all,  is 
there  a  natural  aptitude  in  the  hearts  of  men  to  think 
of  their  gracious  Guardian  and  Saviour  ^  Does  the 
principle  of  gratitude  naturally  lead  them  to  love  him, 
and  to  make  thankful  acknowledgments  to  him  ? 
Alas  !  no.  They  may  indeed  feel  fome  tranfient,  fu- 
perficial  workings  of  gratitude  when  under  the  frelTi 
fenfe  of  fome  remarkable  deliverance  •,  but  thefe  im- 
preffions  foon  wear  oft,  and  they  become  as  thought- 
lefs  and  ftupid  as  ever.  But  let  a  man,  like  yourfelves, 
fave  you  from  fome  great  diftrefs,  you  will  always 
gratefully  remember  him,  think  of  him  often  with 
pleafure,  and  take  all  opportunities  of  returning  his 
kindnefs,  efpecially  if  your  deliverer  was  much  your 
fuperior,  and  independent  upon  you,  if  you  had  for- 
feited his  favour,  provoked  him,  and  incurred  his  dif- 
pleafure  :  great  favours  from  fuch  an  one  would  make 
impreffions  upon  the  moft  obdurate  heart. 

But  though  God  be  infinitely  fuperior  to  us,  and  it 
is  nothing  to  him  what  becomes  of  us,  though  we 
have  rebelled  againft  him,  and  deferve  his  vengeance, 
yet  ten  thoufand  deliverances  from  his  hands  have 
little  or  no  effedt  upon  the  hearts  of  men  :  ail  thefe 
cannot  bring  them  to  think  of  him,  or  love  him  as 
much  as  they  do  a  friend,  or  a  common  benefador  of 
their  own  fpecies  :  and  does  fuch  ftupid  ingratitude 
difcover  any  fpiritual  life  in  them  ?  No  :  they  are 
dead  in  this  refped,  though  they  are  all  alive  to  thofe 
pafTions  that  terminate  upon  created  objecfls.  Farther, 
God  is  the  Benefactor  of  mankind,  not  only  in  deliver- 
ing them  from  dangers  and  calamities,  but  in  beftow- 
ing  unnumbered  pofitive  bleffings  upon  them.  Here 
I  cannot  pretend  to  be  particular,  for  the  lift  of  bleflings 
is  endlefs ;  and  it  will  be  the  happy  employment  of  an 
eternity  to  recoiled  and  enumerate  them.  What  an 
extenftve  and  well  furniftied  world  has  our  God  form- 
ed for  our  accommodation  !  For  us  he  has  enriched 
the  fun  with  light  and  heat,  and  the  earth  with  fruit- 

fulnefs. 


Serm.  4.  of  fpiritual  Deaib,  1^9 

fulnefs.  The  numerous  inhabitants  of  every  element, 
the  plants,  minerals,  and  beafts  of  the  earth,  the  fifhes 
of  the  fea,  the  fowls  of  the  air,  are  all  rendering  their 
fervice  to  man;  feme  afford  him  food,  and  others 
work  for  him ;  the  winds  and  feas,  fire  and  water, 
flones  and  trees,  all  confpire  to  be  ufeful  to  him. 
Our  divine  Benefivftor  crowns  us  with  the  blefTmgs 
of  liberty,  of  fociety,  of  friendihip,  and  the  moft  en- 
dearing relations :  he  preferves  our  iicalth,  gives  us 
"  rain  from  heaven,  and  fruitful  feafons,  and  fills  our 
hearts  v/ith  food  and  gladnefs."  In  Ihort,  he  gives 
us  life,  and  breath,  and  all  things  ;  every  day,  every 
hour,  every  moment  has  arrived  to  us  richly  fi-eighted 
with  bleffings  -,  bleffings  have  refided  with  us  at  home, 
and  attended  us  abroad  -,  bleffings  prefcnted  themfelves 
ready  for  our  enjoyment  as  foon  as  we  entered  into 
the  world ;  then  God  provided  hands  to  receive  us, 
knees  to  fupport  us,  breafts  to  fuckle  us,  and  parents 
to  guard  and  cherifh  us  ;  bleffings  have  grown  up  with 
us,  and  given  fuch  conftant  attendance,  that  they  ar6 
become  familiar  to  us,  and  are  the  infeparable  compa- 
nions of  our  lives.  It  is  no  nev/  or  ufeful  thing  to  us 
to  fee  an  illuftrious  fun  riiing  to  give  us  the  day,  to 
enjoy  repofe  in  the  night,  to  rife  refreshed  and  vigor- 
ous in  the  morning,  to  fee  our  tables  fpread  with  plen- 
ty, the  trees  covered  with  fruit,  the  fields  with  grain, 
and  various  forms  of  animals  growing  up  for  our  fup- 
port or  fervice.  Thefe  are  fuch  familiar  bleffings  to 
us,  that  they  too  often  feem  things  of  courfe,  or  ne- 
ceffary  appendages  of  our  being.  What  a  crowd  of 
bleffings  have  crowned  the  prefcnt  morning  !  You 
and  yours  are  alive  and  well,  you  have  not  come  hi- 
ther ghaftly  and  pining  v/ith  hunger,  or  agonizing  with 
pain.  How  many  refrefhing  draughts  of  air  have  you 
drawn  this  morning  I  how  many  fprightly  and  regular 
pulfes  have  beat  through  your  frame  !  how  many  eafy 
motions  have  you  performed  with  hands,  feet,  eyes, 
tongue,  and  other  members  of  your  body !  and  are 
not  all  thefe  favours  from  God  ?     Yes,  undoubtedly, 

Z  and 


lio  'The  Nature  and  Unlverfality  Serm.  4.. 

and  thus  has  he  gone  on  bleinng  you  all  your  days, 
without  any  interruption  at  all  in  many  of  thefe  par- 
ticulars of  kindnefs,  and  with  but  very  little  in  the 
reft.  Sinful  and  miferable  as  this  v/orld  is,  it  is  a  trea- 
fury  rich  in  bleffings,  a  ftore-houfe  full  of  provifions, 
a  dwelling  well  furnifhed  for  the  accommodation  of 
mortals,  and  all  by  the  care,  and  at  the  expence  of 
that  gracious  God  who  firft  made  and  ftill  preferves  it 
what  it  is.  "  Lord,  whence  is  it  then  that  the  inha- 
bitants forget  and  negled  thee,  as  though  they  were 
not  at  all  obliged  to  thee  ?  O !  whence  is  it  that  they 
love  thy  gifts,  and  yet  difregard  the  Giver  ^  that  they 
think  lefs  of  thee  ihan  of  an  earthly  father  or  friend, 
or  an  human  benefador ;  that  there  fhould  be  fo  little 
gratitude  towards  thee,  that  of  all  benefadiors  thou 
ihouldeil:  be  the  leaft  acknowledged  •■,  that  the  bene- 
fadlors  of  nations,  and  even  of  private  perfons,  in 
inftances  unworthy  to  be  mentioned  with  thofe  oi  thy 
goodnefs,  fhould  be  celebrated,  and  even  adored, 
while  thou  art  negleded,  thine  agency  overlooked, 
and  thy  goodnefs  forgotten  ?  O  !  whence  is  this 
ftrange  phaenomenon,  this  unaccountable,  unprece- 
dented ftupidity  and  ingratitude  in  reafonable  creatures  ? 
Surely,  if  they  had  any  life^  any  fenfation  in  this  re- 
fpeft,  they  would  not  be  capable  of  fuch  a  condu(5b ; 
but  they  are  dead,  dead  to  all  the  generous  fenfations 
of  gratitude  to  God :  and  as  a  dead  corpfe  feels  no 
gratitude  to  thofe  that  perform  the  laft  friendly  office, 
and  cover  it  with  earth,  fo  a  dead  foul  ftands  unmov- 
ed under  all  the  profufion  of  bleffings  which  Heaven 
pours  upon  it. 

The  bleffings  I  have  mentioned,  which  are  confined 
to  the  prefent  ftate,  are  great,  and  deferve  our  won- 
der and  thankfgiving,  efpecially  confidering  that  they 
are  beftowed  upon  a  race  of  rebellious,  ungrateful 
creatures,  who  deferve  the  fevereft  vengeance ;  but 
there  is  a  fet  of  bleffings  yet  unmentioned,  of  infinite- 
ly greater  importance,  in  which  all  others  are  fwallow- 
ed  up,  by  the  glory  of  which  they  are  obfcured,  like 

the 


Serm.  4«  of  fpirituai  Death.  171 

the  ftars  of  night  by  the  rifing  lun.  To  fome  of  our 
race  God  has  given  crowns  and  kingdoms.  For  Ifrael 
Jehovah  wrought  the  moft  aftonifhing  miracles  ;  feas 
and  rivers  opened  to  make  way  for  them  ;  rocks  burft 
into  fprings  of  water  to  quench  their  third:  j  the  clouds 
poured  do'vn  manna,  and  fed  them  with  bread  from 
heaven  :  their  God  delivered  Daniel  from  the  jaws  of 
hungry  lions,  and  his  three  companions  from  the  burn- 
ing fiery  furnace.  He  has  reftored  health  to  the  fick, 
fight  to  the  blind,  and  life  to  the  deiid.  Thefe  blef- 
fings  and  deliverances  have  fomething  majeftic  and 
driking  in  them  \  and  had  we  been  the  fubjeifts  of 
them,  v/e  could  not  but  have  regarded  them  as  great 
and  fingular  •,  but  what  are  thefe  in  comparifon  of 
God's  gift  of  his  Son,  and  the  bleffings  he  has  pur- 
chafed  !  his  Son,  who  is  of  greater  value,  and  dearer 
to  him  than  ten  thoufand  worlds ;  his  beloved  Son, 
in  whom  he  is  well  pleafed  ;  him  has  he  given  for  us, 
given  up  to  three  and  thirty  years  of  the  moft  mor- 
tifying abafement,  and  an  inceflant  conflict  with  the 
fevereft  trials  ;  given  up  to  death,  and  all  the  ignomi- 
ny and  agonies  of  crucifixion.  Thus  has  God  loved 
our  world  !  and  never  was  there  fuch  a  difplay  of  love 
in  heaven  or  on  earth.  You  can  no  more  find  love 
equal  to  this  among  creatures,  than  you  can  find 
among  them  the  infinite  power  that  formed  the  uni- 
verfe  out  of  nothing.  This  will  ftand  upon  record  to 
all  eternity,  as  the  unprecedented,  unparalleled,  ini- 
mitable love  of  God.  And  it  appears  the  more  illuf- 
trious  when  we  confider  that  this  unfpeakable  gift  v/as 
given  to  finners,  to  rebels,  to  enemies,  that  were  fo 
far  from  deferving  it,  that,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  a 
miracle  of  mercy  that  they  are  not  all  groaning  for 
ever  under  the  tremendous  weight  of  his  juftice.  O 
that  1  could  fay  fomething  becoming  this  love  -,  fome- 
thing that  might  do  honour  to  it !  but,  alas  I  the  lan- 
guage of  m.ortals  was  formed  for  lower  fubjeds.  This 
lOve  pafles  all  defcription  and  all  knov/Icdge.  Confi- 
der uHb  what  rich  blcifings  Chrifi:  has  purchafed  for 

u$,- 


1/2  The  Nature  and  Univ erf ality  Serm.  4.. 

us  :  purchafed  not  with  fuch  corruptible  things  as  lilver 
and  gold,  but  with  his  own  precious  blood  :  the  price 
recommends  and  endears  the  bleffings,  though  they 
are  fo  great  in  themfelves  as  to  need  no  fuch  recom- 
mendation.    What  can   be  greater  or  more  fuitable 
bleffings  to  perfons  in  our  circumfcances,  thaii  pardon 
for  the  guilty,  redemption  for  flaves,  righteoufncfs  and 
jullification  for  the  condemned,  fandification  for  the 
unholy,  reft  for  the  weary,  comfort  for  mourners,  the 
favour  of  God  for  rebels  and  exiles,  ftrength  for  the 
impotent,  prote6tion  for  the  helpiefs,  everlafting  hap- 
pinefs  for  the  heirs  of  hell !   and,  to  fum  up  all,  grace 
and  glory,  and  every  good  thing,  and  all  the  unfearch- 
able  riches  of  Chrift  for  the  wretched  and  miferable, 
the  poor,  the  blind,  and  naked  !      Thefe  are  bleffings 
indeed,  and,  in  comparifon  of  them,  all  the  riches  of 
the  world  are  impoverifhed,  and  vanifh  to  nothing ; 
and  all  thefe   blelTmgs  are  publifhed,  offered  freely, 
indefinitely  offered  to  you,  to  me,  to  the  greateft  fin- 
ner  on  earth,  in  the  gofpel  -,  and  we  are  allowed, — 
allowed  did  I  fay  ?  we  are  invited  with  the  utmoft  im- 
portunity, intreated  with  the  mofl;  compafTionate  ten- 
dernefs   and  condefcenfion,    and   commanded  by  the 
higheft  authority,  upon  pain  of  eternal  damnation,  to 
accept  the  b]efiin2;s  prelented  to  us  !     And  what  re- 
ception does  all  this  love  meet  with  in  our  world  !      I 
tremble  to  think  of  it.     It  is  plain,  thefe  things  are 
propofed  to  a  world  dead  in  fin  ;  for  they  are  all  flill, 
^\\  unmoved,  all  fenfelefs  under  fuch  a  revelation  of 
infinite  grace ;  mankind  know  not  v;hat  it  is  to  be 
moved,  melted,  tranfported  with  the  love  of  a  cruci- 
fied Saviour,  till  divine  grace  vifits  their  hearts,  and 
forms  them  into  new  creatures  :  they  feel  no  eager 
folicitude,  nay,  not  fo  much  as  a  willingnefs  to  receive 
thefe  blefiings,  till  thev  become  vv^illing  by  almighty 
povv'er  :  and  judge  ye,  my  brethren,  v/hether  they  are 
not  dead  fouls  that  are  proof  even  againft  the  love  of 
God  in  Chrift,  that  are  not  moved  and  melted  by  tht 
agonies  of  his  crofs,  that  are  carelefs  about  fuch  incf- 

timable 


Serm.  4«  of  fpiriiud  Death.  173 

timable  bleflings  as  thefe  ?  Has 'that  foul  any  fpiritual 
life  in  it  that  can  fit  fenfelefs  under  the  crofs  of  Jefus, 
that  can  forget  him,  negledt  him,  diihonour  him,  after 
all  his  love  and  all  his  fufFerings  j  that  feels  a  prevail- 
ing indifferency  and  langour  towards  him  ;  that  loves 
him  lefs  than  an  earthly  friend,  and  feeks  him  with 
lefs  eagernefs  than  gold  and  filver  ?  Is  not  every  ge- 
nerous paflion,  every  principle  of  gratitude  quite  ex- 
tm6t  in  fuch  a  fpirit  ?  It  may  be  alive  to  other  ob- 
jed:s,  but  towards  this  it  is  dead  •,  and  alas  !  is  not  this 
the  common  cafe  !  O  look  round  the  world,  and 
what  do  you  fee  but  a  general  negledl  of  the  blefied 
Jefus,  and  all  the  bleflings  of  his  gofpel  ?  How  cold, 
how  untoward,  how  reluctant,  how  averfe  are  the 
hearts  of  men  towards  him  ?  how  hard  to  perfuade 
them  to  think  of  him  and  love  him  ?  Try  to  perfuade 
men  to  give  over  their  fins  which  grieve  him,  diiho- 
nour him,  and  were  the  caufe  of  his  death ;  try  to 
engage  them  to  devote  themfelves  entirely  to  him, 
and  live  to  his  glory,  alas !  you  try  in  vain ;  their 
hearts  ftill  continue  cold  and  hard  as  a  ftone ;  try  to 
perfuade  them  to  murder  or  robbery,  and  you  are 
more  likely  to  prevail.  Suffer  me,  in  my  aftonifhment, 
to  repeat  this  moft  melancholy  truth  again  j  the  gene- 
rality of  mankind  are  habitually  carelefs  about  the 
blefied  Jefus ;  they  will  not  feek  him,  nor  give  him 
their  hearts  and  affeftions,  though  they  muft  perifh 
for  ever  by  their  negled:  of  him  !  Ailonifhing,  and 
moft  lamentable,  that  ever  fuch  perverfenefs  and  ftupi- 
dity  fhould  feize  the  foul  of  man  !  Methinks  I  could 
here  take  up  a  lamentation  over  human  nature,  and 
fall  on  my  knees  with  this  prayer  for  my  fellow-men, 
"  Father  of  fpirits,  and  Lord  of  life,  quicken,  O 
quicken  thefe  dead  fouls!"  O,  Sirs,  v.'hile  we  fee 
death  all  around  us,  and  feel  it  benum/oing  our  own 
fouls,  who  can  help  the  moft  bitter  wailing  and  lamen- 
tation !  \who  can  reftrain  himfelf  from  crying  to  the 
great  Author  of  life  for  a  happy  refarredion  !  While 
the  valley  of  dry  bones  lies  before  rne,  while  the  car- 
nage. 


1 74  'The  Nature  and  Univerjality         Serm.  4, 

nage,  the  charnel-houfe  of  immortal  fouls  ftrikes  my 
fight  all  around  me  far  and  wide,  how  can  I  forbear 
crying.  Come  from  the  four  winds^  O  breath  •,  breathe 
upon  thefe Jlain^  that  they  may  live?  But  to  turn  from 
this  digreffion,  into  which  I  was  unavoidably  hurried 
by  the  horror  of  the  fubjed,  I  would  obferve  farther, 
that  kind  ufage  and  plcaifing  treatment  may  not  be  al- 
ways beft  for  fuch  creatures  as  we  are  :  fatherly  feve- 
rities  and  chaftifements,  though  not  agreeable  to  us, 
yet  may  be  neceflary  and  conducive  to  our  greateft 
good.  Accordingly,  God  has  tried  the  force  of  chaf- 
tifements  to  make  imprefTions  on  our  hearts  :  thefe  in- 
deed have  been  but  few  in  comparifon  of  his  raorg 
agreeable  difpenfations  -,  yet  recollecl  whether  you  have 
not  frequently  felt  his  rod.  Have  you  not  languifhed 
under  (icknefs  and  pain,  and  been  brought  within  a 
near  view  of  the  king  of  terrors  .'*  Have  you  not  fuf- 
fered  the  bereavement  of  friends  and  relations,  and 
met  with  lofTes,  adverfity,  and  difappointments  ? 
Others  have  felt  ftill  greater  calamities  in  a  clofer  fuc- 
celTion,  and  with  fewer  mercies  intermixed.  Thefe 
things,  one  would  think,  would  immediately  bring 
men  to  regard  the  hand  that  fmites  them,  and  make 
them  fenfible  of  their  undutiful  condud,  which  has 
procured  the  corredion  :  thefe  are  like  the  application 
of  fire  to  one  in  a  lethargy,  to  awaken  him  to  life ; 
but  alas !  under  all  thefe  affiidions,  the  ftupor  and  in- 
fenfibility  ftill  remain.  Sinners  groan  by  reafon  of 
oppreffion,  but  it  is  not  natural  for  them  to  inquire. 
Where  is  God  my  Maker ^  that  giveth  fongs  in  the  night  ? 
It  is  not  natural  for  them  to  repent  of  their  undutiful 
conduct  and  amend  ;  or,  if  they  are  awakened  to  fome 
little  fenfe,  while  the  painful  rod  of  the  Almighty  is 
yet  upon  them,  as  foon  as  it  is  removed  they  become 
as  hardened  and  fenfelefs  as  ever.  And  is  not  a  ftate 
of  death  a  very  proper  reprefentation  of  fuch  fullen, 
incorrigible  ftupidity  '^.  Living  fouls  have  very  tender 
fenfations  ;  one  touch  of  their  heavenly  Father's  hand 
makes  deep  imprellions  upon  them  i  they  tremble  at 

his 


Serm .  4.  of  fpiritual  Death.  175 

his  frown,  they  fall  and  weep  at  his  feet,  they  confefs 
their  offences,  and  mourn  over  them  *,  they  fly  to  the 
arms  of  mercy  to  efcape  the  impending  blow  -,  and 
thus  would  all  do  were  they  not  quite  dcftitute  of  fpi- 
ritual life. 

I  have  materials  fufficient  for  a  difcourfe  of  fome 
hours ;  but  at  prefent  I  muft  abruptly  drop  the  fub- 
je6t :  hovv'ever,  I  cannot  difmifs  you  without  making 
a  few  refledions.     And, 

I.  What  a  ftrange  affe(5ling  view  does  this  fubjeft 
give  us  of  this  affembly !  I  doubt  not  but  I  may  ac- 
commodate the  text  to  fome  of  you  with  this  agreea- 
ble addition,  "  You  hath  he  quickened,  though  you 
were  once  dead  in  trefpafles  and  fins."  Though  the 
vital  pulfe  beats  faint  and  irregular,  and  your  fpiritual 
life  is  but  very  low,  yet,  blefled  be  God,  you  are  not 
entirely  dead  :  you  have  fome  living  fenfations,  fome 
lively  and  vigorous  exercifes  in  religion.  On  the  other 
hand,  I  doubt  not  but  fome  of  you  not  only  were,  bui: 
ftill  are  dead  in  trefpajfes  and  fins.  It  is  not  to  be  ex- 
peded  in  our  world,  at  leaft  not  before  the  millennium, 
that  we  fhall  fee  fuch  a  mixed  company  together,  and 
all  living  fouls.  Here  then  is  the  difference  between 
you  -,  fome  of  you  are  fpirltually  alive,  and  fome  of 
you  are  fpirltually  dead  :  here  the  living  and  the  dead 
are  blended  together  in  the  fam^e  aflembly,  on  the  fame 
feat,  and  united  in  the  neareft  relations  :  here  fits  a 
dead  foul,  there  another,  and  there  another,  and  a  few 
living  fouls  are  fcattered  here  and  there  among  them  : 
here  is  a  dead  parent  and  a  living  child,  or  a  dead 
child  and  a  living  parent :  here  life  and  death  (O  fhock- 
ing  !)  are  united  in  the  bonds  of  conjugal  love,  and 
dwell  under  the  fame  roof:  here  is  a  dead  fervant  and 
a  living  mafter-,  and  there  a  dead  mailer  (O  terrible  !) 
commands  a  living  fervant.  Should  I  trace  the  dif- 
tindion  beyond  this  affembly  into  the  world,  we 
fhall  find  a  family  here  and  there  that  have  a  little  life  •, 
perhaps  one,  perhaps  two,  difcover  fome  vital  fymp- 
toms  5  but  O  what  crowds  of  dead  families!  all  dead 

together, 


176  l^he  Nature  and  Untverfality  Serm.  4.^ 

together,  and  no  endeavours  ufed  to  bring  one  ano- 
ther to  life ;  a  death-Hke  filence  about  eternal  things  -, 
a  deadly  ftupor  and  infenfibility  reign  among  them; 
they  breathe  out  no  defires  and  prayers  after  God, 
nor  does  the  vital  pulfe  of  love  beat  in  their  hearts 
towards  him  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  their  fouls  are 
putrifying  in  fin,  which  is  very  emphatically  called 
corruption  by  the  facred  writers ;  they  are  over-run  and 
devoured  by  their  lufts,  as  worms  infult  and  deftroy 
the  dead  body.  Call  to  them,  they  will  not  awake  ; 
thunder  the  terrors  of  the  Lord  in  their  ears,  they  will 
not  hear ;  offer  them  all  the  bleffmgs  of  the  gofpel, 
they  will  not  ftretch  out  the  hand  of  faith  to  receive 
them  :  lay  the  word  of  God,  the  bread  of  life,  before 
them,  they  have  no  appetite  for  it.  In  fhort,  the  plain 
fymptoms  of  death  are  upon  them  :  the  animal  is 
alive,  but  alas  !  the  fpirit  is  dead  towards  God.  And 
Vvhat  an  affecting,  melancholy  view  does  this  give  of 
this  affembly,  and  of  the  world  in  general !  O  that 
my  head  were  waters,  and  mine  eyes  fountains  of  tears, 
that  I  might  weep  day  and  night  for  the  flain  of  the 
daughter  of  my  people]  Weep  not  for  the  afflicted, 
v/eep  not  over  ghaftly  corpfes  diffolving  into  their  ori- 
ginal duft,  but  O  !  weep  for  dead  fouls.  Should  God 
now  ftrike  all  thofe  perfons  dead  in  this  affembly 
whofe  fouls  are  dead  in  trefpajj'es  andfns,  lliould  he  lay 
them  all  in  pale  corpfes  before  us,  like  Ananias  and 
Sapphira  at  the  apoftle's  feet,  what  numbers  of  you 
would  never  return  from  this  houfe  more,  and  what 
lamentations  would  there  be  among  the  furviving  few ! 
One  would  lofe  a  hufband  or  a  wife,  another  a  fon  or 
a  daughter,  another  a  father  or  a  mother  -,  and  alas ! 
would  not  fome  whole  families  be  fwept  off  together, 
all  blended  in  one  promifcuous  death !  Such  a  fight 
as  this  would  ftrike  terror  into  the  hardieft  heart 
among  you.  But  what  is  this  to  a  company  of  ra- 
tional fpirits  fiain  and  dead  in  trefpaffes  and  fins  '^.  How 
deplorable  and  inexpreffibly  melancholy  a  fight  this  ! 
Therefore, 

2.  Awake 


Serm.  4.  of fpiritual Death.  jy-j 

2.  Awake  thou  that  Jleepeji,  and  arife  from  the  dead, 
that  Chrjfi  may  give  thee  light.  This  call  is  direfted 
to  you  dead  iinners  ;  v/hich  is  a  fufficient  warrant  for 
me  to  exhort  and  perfuade  you.  The  principle  of 
reafon  is  ftill  alive  in  you ;  you  are  alfo  fenfible  of 
your  own  intereft,  and  feel  the  workings  of  felf-love. 
It  is  God  alone  that  can  quicken  you,  but  he  effeds 
this  by  a  power  that  does  not  exclude,  but  attends  ra- 
tional inftrudtions  and  perfuafions  to  your  underftand- 
ing.  Therefore,  though  I  am  fure  you  will  continue 
dead  ftill  if  left  to  yourfelves,  yet  with  fome  trembling 
hopes  that  his  power  may  accompany  my  feeble  words, 
and  impregnate  them  with  life,  I  call  upon,  I  intreat, 
I  charge  you  finners  to  roufe  yourfelves  out  of  your 
dead  fleep,  and  feek  to  obtain  fpiritual  life.  Now, 
while  my  voice  founds  in  your  ears,  now,  this  moment, 
waft  up  this  prayer,  "  Lord,  pity  a  dead  foul,  a  foul 
that  has  been  dead  for  ten,  twenty,  thirty,  forty  years. 
Or  more,  and  lain  corrupting  in  fin,  and  fay  unto  me, 
**  Live :  from  this  moment  let  me  Jive  unto  thee.'* 
Let  this  prayer  be  ftill  upon  your  hearts  :  keep  your 
fouls  always  in  a  fupplicating  pofture,  and  who  knows 
but  that  he,  who  raifed  Lazarus  from  the  grave,  may- 
give  you  a  fpiritual  refurredion  to  a  more  important 
life  ?  But  if  you  wilfully  continue  your  fecurity,  ex- 
peft  in  a  little  time  to  fuffer  the  fecond  death ;  the 
mortification  will  become  incurable  ;  and  then,  though 
you  will  be  ftill  dead  to  God,  yet  you  will  be  "  trem- 
blingly alive  all  over"  to  the  fenfations  of  pain  and 
torture.  O  that  I  could  gain  but  this  one  requeft  of 
you,  which  your  own  intereft  fo  ftrongly  enforces  ' 
but  alas !  it  has  been  fo  often  refufed,  that  to  exped: 
to  prevail  is  to  hope  againft  hope. 

3.  Let  the  children  of  God  be  fenfible  of  their 
great  happinefs  in  being  made  fpiritually  alive.  Life 
is  a  principle,  a  capacity  neceftary  for  enjoyments  of 
any  kind.  Without  animal  life  you  would  be  as  in- 
capable of  animal  pleafures  as  a  ftone  or  a  clod  ;  and 
without  fpiritual  life  you  can  no  more  enjoy  the  hap- 

A  a  pinefs 


lyS  'The  Nature  and Procefs  Serm.  5. 

pinefs  of  heaven  than  a  beaft  or  a  devil.  This  there- 
fore is  a  preparative,  a  previous  qualification,  and  a 
fure  pledge  and  earneft  of  everlafting  life.  How 
highly  then  are  you  diftinguiihed,  and  whatcaufe  have 
you  for  gratitude  and  praife  ! 

4.  Let  us  all  be  fenfible  of  this  important  truth,  that 
It  is  entirely,  by  grace  we  are  faved.  This  is  the  in- 
ference the  apoftle  exprefsly  makes  from  this  dodlrine ; 
and  he  is  fo  full  of  it,  that  he  throws  it  into  a  paren- 
thells  (verfe  the  5th)  though  it  breaks  the  connexion 
of  his  difcourfe-,  and  as  foon  as  he  has  room  he  re- 
fumes  it  again  (verfe  8th)  and  repeats  it  over  and  over, 
in  various  forms,  in  the  compafs  of  a  few  verfes.  By 
grace  ye  are  faved. — By  grace  are  you  faved  through  faith. 
- — //  is  the  gift  of  God; — not  of  your f elves  ^ — not  of  works 
(verfe  9th.)  This,  you  fee,  is  an  inference  that  feem- 
ed  of  great  importance  to  the  apoftle ;  and  what  can 
more  naturally  follow  from  the  premifes  ?  If  we  were 
once  dead  in  fin,  certainly  it  is  owing  to  the  freeft  grace 
that  we  have  been  quickened;  therefore,  when  we  fur- 
vey  the  change,  let  us  cry,  "  Grace,  grace  unto  it." 


SERMON     V. 

The  Nature  and  Procefs  of  Spiritual  Life. 


Ephes.  ii.  4,  5.  But  God.,  who  is  rich  in  mercy,  for 
his  great  love  wherewith  he  loved  us,  even  when  we 
were  dead  in  fins,  hath ,  qiiickened  us  together  with 
Chrifi. 

IT  is  not  my  ufual  method  to  weary  your  attention 
by  a  long  confinement  to  one  fubject;  and  our  re- 
ligion furnilhes  us  with  fuch  a  boundlefs  variety  of 
important  topics,  that  a  minlfter  who  makes  them  his 
ftudy  will  find  no  temptation  to  cloy  you  with  repeti- 
tions, but  rather  finds  it  difficult  to  fpeak  fo  concifel/ 

on 


Serm.  5»  offpiritttalLife.  lyq 

on  one  fubjed,  as  to  leave  room  for  others  of  equal 
importance  :  however  the  fubjed  of  my  laft  difcourfe 
was  fo  copious  and  interefting,  that  I  cannot  difmifs 
it  without  a  fupplement.  I  there  iKewed  you  fome 
of  the  fymptoms  of  fpiritual  death ;  but  1  would  not 
leave  you  dead  as  I  found  you-,  and  therefore  I  in- 
tend now  to  confider  the  counterpart  of  that  fubje6t, 
and  fhew  you  the  nature  and  fymptoms  of  fpiritual  life. 
I  doubt  not  but  a  number  of  you  have  been  made 
alive  to  God  by  his  quickening  fpirit  •,  but  many,  I 
fear,  ftill  continue  ^^^(iz;^  trefpajjh  and  fins  \  and,  while 
fuch  are  around  me,  I  cannot  help  imagining  my  fitu- 
ation  fom.ething  like  that  of  the  prophet  Ezekiel  (ch. 
xxxvii.)  in  the  midft  of  the  valley  full  of  dry  bones, 
fpread  far  and  wide  around  him  *.  and  ihould  I  be  a{k- 
ed.  Can  thefe  dry  bones ^  can  thefe  dead  fouls  live?  I 
muft  anfwer  with  him, — O  Lord  God^  thou  knoweji.- 
"  Lord,  I  fee  no  fymptoms  of  life  in  them,  no  ten- 
dency towards  it.  I  know  nothing  is  impoiuble  to 
thee :  I  firmly  believe  thou  canii:  infpire  them  with 
life,  dry  and  dead  as  they  are :  and  what  thy  defigns 
are  towards  them,  whether  thou  intendeft  to  exert  thy 
all-quickening  power  upon  them,  thou  only  knoweft, 
and  I  would  not  prefume  to  determine  •,  but  this  I 
know,  that,  if  they  are  left  to  themfelves,  they  will 
continue  dead  to  all  eternity ;  for,  O  Lord,  the  ex- 
periment has  been  repeatedly  tried-,  thy  fervar.t  has 
over  and  over  made  thofe  quickening  applications  to 
them  which  thv  Word,  that  facred  difpenfary,  pre- 
fcribes  -,  but  all  in  vain ;  they  ftill  continue  dead  to- 
wards thee,  and  lie  putrifying  more  and  more  in  tref- 
pafTes  and  fins  :  however,  at  thy  command,  I  would 
attempt  the  moft  unpromifing  undertaking  •,  I  would 
proclaim  even  unto  dry  bones  and  dead  fouls,  O  ye 
dry  bones,  O  ye  dead  fouls,  hear  the  'word  cf  the  Lord. 
Ezek.  xxxvii.  4.  I  v/ould  alfo  cry  aloud  for  the  ani- 
mating breath  of  the  holy  Spirit,  Come  from  the  four 
winds  and  breathe  \  breathe  upon  thefe /lain,  that  they  may 
live.  V.  9. 

ye 


f  8o  'The  Nature  and  Procefs  Serm.  5. 

Ye  dead  finners,  I  would  make  one  attempt  more 
in  the  name  of  the  Lord  to  bring  you  to  Hfe  •,  and  if 
I  have  the  leaft  hope  of  fuccefs,  it  is  entirely  owing 
to  the  encouraging  peradventure  that  the  quickening 
ipirit  of  Chrift  may  work  upon  your  hearts  while  I 
am  addreiTing  myfelf  to  your  ears.  And,  O  Sirs,  let 
us  all  keep  our  fouls  in  a  praying  pofture,  throughout 
this  difcourfe.  If  one  of  you  fhould  fall  into  a  fwoon 
or  an  apoplexy,  how  would  all  about  you  beftir  them- 
felves  to  bring  you  to  life  again  !  And  alas  !  fhall  dead 
fouls  lie  fo  thick  among  us,  in  every  afiembly,  in  every 
family  ;  and  fliall  no  means  be  ufed  for  their  recovery  ? 
Did  Martha  and  Mary  apply  to  Jefus  with  all  the  arts 
of  importunity  in  behalf  of  their  fick  and  deceafed 
brother,  and  are  there  not  fome  of  you  that  have  dead 
relations,  dead  friends  and  neighbours,  I  mean  dead 
in  the  worft  fenfe,  "  dead  in  trefpafles  and  fins  ?"  and 
will  you  not  apply  to  Jefus,  the  Lord  of  life,  and 
follov/  him  with  your  importunate  cries,  till  he  come 
and  call  them  to  life  ?  Now  let  parents  turn  intercef- 
fbrs  for  their  children,  children  for  their  parents, 
friend  for  friend,  neighbour  for  neighbour,  yea  enemy 
for  enemy.  O  !  fliould  we  all  take  this  method,  we 
might  foon  expe6t  to  fee  the  valley  of  dry  bones  full  of 
living  fouls,  an  exceeding  great  army.  Ezek.  xxxvii.  10. 

In  praying  for  this  great  and  glorious  event,  you 
do  not  pray  for  an  impoffibility.  Thoufands,  as  dead 
ss  they,  have  obtained  a  joyful  refurredion  by  the 
power  of  God.  Here  in  my  text  you  have  an  inftance 
of  a  promifcuous  crowd  of  Jews  and  Gentiles  that 
had  lain  dead  in  fin  together,  and  even  St.  Paul  among 
them,  who  were  recovered  to  life,  and  are  now  enjoy- 
ing an  immortal  life  in  the  heavenly  regions ;  and, 
bleiled  by  God,  this  fpiritual  life  is  not  entirely  ex- 
tind  among  us.  Among  the  multitudes  of  dead  fouls 
that  we  every  where  meet  with,  we  find  here  and  there 
a  foul  that  has  very  different  fymptoms :  once  indeed 
it  v/as  like  the  reft ;  but  now,  while  they  are  quite 
fenfe'efs  of  divine  things,  and  have  no  vital  afpirations 

after 


JSerm.  5-  of  fpirittial  Life.  i8i 

after  God,  this  foul  cannot  be  content  with  the  richefl 
affluence  of  created  enjoyments  •,  it  pants  and  breathes 
after  God  ;  it  feeds  upon  his  word,  it  feels  an  almigh- 
ty energy  in  eternal  things,  and  receives  vital  fenfa- 
tions  from  them.  It  difcovers  life  and  vigour  in  de- 
votion, and  ferves  the  living  God  with  pleafure,  tho' 
it  is  alfo  fubjed  to  fits  of  languiihment,  and  at  times 
feems  jufl:  expiring,  and  to  lofe  all  fenfation.  And 
whence  is  this  vaft  difference  ?  Why  is  this  foul  fo 
different  from  what  it  once  was,  and  what  thoufands 
around  ftill  are  ?  Why  can  it  not,  like  them,  and 
like  itfelf  formerly,  lie  dead  and  fenfelefs  in  fin,  with- 
out any  vital  impreffions  or  experiences  from  God  or 
divine  things?  The  reafon,  the  happy  reafoii,  my 
brethren,  is,  this  is  a  living  foul :  "  God,  out  of  the 
great  love  wherewith  he  loved  it,  hath  quickened  it 
together  v.'ith  Chrift,"  and  hence  it  is  alive  to  him. 

My  prefent  defign  is  to  explain  the  nature  and  pro- 
perties of  this  divine  life,  and  to  fhew  you  the  man- 
ner in  which  it  is  ufually  begun  in  the  foul :  I  fhall 
open  v/ith  the  confideration  of  the  laft  particular. 

Here  you  muft  obferve,  that,  though  fpiritual  life 
is  inftantaneoufly  infufed,  yet  God  prepares  the  foul 
for  its  reception  by  a  courfe  of  previous  operations. 
He  fpent  fix  days  in  the  creation  of  the  world,  though 
he  might  have  fpoken  it  into  being  in  art  inftant. — 
Thus  he  ufually  creates  the  foul  anew  after  a  gradual 
procefs  of  preparatory  actions.  In  forming  the  firft 
man,  he  firll:  created  chaos  out  of  nothing,  then  he 
digefted  it  into  earth  ;  on  the  fixth  day  he  formed  and 
organized  the  earth  into  a  body,  with  all  its  endlefs 
variety  of  members,  juices,  mufcles,  fibres,  veins, 
and  arteries  ^  and  then,  after  this  procefs,  he  infpired 
it  with  a  living  foul;  and  what  was  but  a  lump  of 
clay,  fprung  up  a  perfedl  man.  Thus  alfo  the  foetus 
in  the  womb  is  for  fome  rnonths  in  formation  before 
the  foul  or  the  principle  of  life  is  infufed.  In  like 
manner  the  Almighty  proceeds  in  quickening  us  with 
fpiritual  life;  we  all  pafs  through  a  couife  of  prepara- 
tion, 


J  82  ■    The  Nature  and  Procefs  Serm.  5. 

tion,  though  fome  through  a  longer,  and  fome  fhorter. 
And  as  one  reafon  why  the  great  Creator  took  up  fo 
much  time  in  the  creation  of  the  world  probably  was, 
that  he  might  allow  the  angels  time  for  leifurely  fur- 
veys  of  the  aftonifhing  procefs,  fo  he  may  advance 
thus  gradually  in  the  new  creation,  that  we  may  ob- 
ferv'e  the  various  fteps  of  the  operation,  and  make  pro- 
per reflexions  upon  it  in  future  life.  My  prefent  de- 
fign  is  to  trace  thefe  fteps  to  their  grand  refult,  that 
you  may  know  whether  ever  divine  grace  has  carried 
you  through  this  gracious  procefs. 

And  that  you  may  not  fail  into  needlefs  perplexities, 
it  may  be  necefiary  for  me  to  premife  farther,  that 
there  is  a  great  variety  in  thefe  preparatory  operations, 
and  in  the  degrees  of  fpiritual  life.  Indeed  the  dif- 
ference is  only  circumftantial,  for  the  work  is  fubftan- 
tially  the  fame,  and  fpiritual  life  is  fubftantially  the 
flime  in  all  -,  but  then,  in  fuch  circumftances  as  the 
length  of  time,  the  particular  external  means,  the  de- 
gree of  previous  terror,  and  of  fubfequent  joy  and 
vitality,  &c.  God  exercifes  a  fovereign  freedom,  and 
fhews  that  he  has  a  variety  of  ways  by  which  to  ac- 
complish his  end  ;  and  it  is  no  matter  how  we  obtain 
it,  if  we  have  but  fpiritual  life.  I  fhall  therefore  en- 
deavour to  confine  myfelf  to  the  fubftance  of  this 
work,  without  its  peculiarities,  in  different  fubjedls ; 
and,  when  I  cannot  avoid  defcending  to  particulars,  I 
Ihall  endeavour  fo  to  diverfify  them,  as  that  they  may 
be  eafily  adapted  to  the  various  cafes  of  different  Chrif- 
tians.  To  draw  their  common  lineaments,  whereby 
they  may  be  diftinguifhed  from  all  others,  is  fufficient 
to  my  prefent  purpofe ;  whereas,  to  draw  the  parti- 
cular lineaments,  or  peculiar  features,  whereby  they 
may  be  diftinguifhed  from  one  another,  is  a  very  dif- 
ficult tafk,  and  cannot  be  of  any  great  fervice  to  what 
I  have  now  in  defign. 

I  have  only  one  thing  more  to  premife,  and  that  is, 
that  the  way  by  which  divine  grace  prepares  a  finner 
for  fpiritual  life,  is  by  working  upon  all  the  principles 

of 


Serm.  5.  offpiritualLife.  183 

of  the  rational  life,  and  exciting  him  to  exert  them  to 
the  utmoft  to  obtain  it.  Here  it  is  proper  for  you  to 
recoiled  what  I  obferved  in  my  laft  difcourfe,  that 
even  a  finner  dead  in  trefpafles  and  fins  is  alive,  and 
capable  of  adlion  in  other  refpeds  :  he  can  not  only 
perform  the  adlions,  and  feel  the  fenfations  of  animal 
life,  but  he  can  alfo  exercife  his  intelleftual  powers 
about  intelledual  objeds,  and  even  about  divine  things : 
he  is  capable  of  thinking  of  thefe,  and  of  receiving 
fome  impreffions  from  them  :  he  is  alfo  capable  of  at- 
tending upon  the  ordinances  of  the  gofpel,  and  per- 
forming the  external  duties  of  religion.  Thefe  things 
a  finner  may  do,  and  yet  be  dead  in  fin.  Indeed  he 
will  not  exercife  his  natural  powers  about  thefe  things 
while  left  to  himfelf:  he  has  the  povv'cr,  but  then  he 
has  no  difpofition  to  employ  it :  he  is  indeed  capable 
of  meditating  upon  fpiritual  things,  but  what  dees 
this  avail  when  he  v/ill  not  turn  his  mind  to  fuch  ob- 
jeds  ?  or  if  he  does,  he  confiders  them  as  mere  fpe- 
culations,  and  not  as  the  moft  interefting  and  impor- 
tant realities.  How  few,  or  how  fuperficial  and  un- 
afFeding  are  a  finner's  thoughts  of  them  !  Heaven 
and  hell  are  objeds  that  may  ftrike  the  pafiions,  and 
raife  the  joys  and  fears  of  a  natural  man,  but  in  gene- 
ral he  is  little  or  nothing  imprefied  with  them.  He 
is  capable  of  prayer,  hearing,  and  ufing  the  means  of 
grace ;  but  I  believe,  if  you  make  obfervations  upon 
the  condu6l  of  miankind,  that  you  will  find  they  are 
but  feldom  employed  in  thefe  duties,  or  that  they  per- 
form them  in  fuch  a  carelefs  manner,  that  they  have 
no  tendency  to  anfwer  the  end  of  their  inflitution.  In 
fhort,  the  more  I  know  of  mankind,  I  have  the  lower 
opinion  of  what  they  v/ill  do  in  religion  when  left  to 
themfelves.  They  have  a  natural  power,  and  we  have 
feen  all  pofiible  means  ufed  with  them  to  excite  them 
to  put  it  forth ;  but  alas  !  all  is  in  vain,  and  nothing 
will  be  done  to  propofe  till  God  ftir  them  up  to  exert 
their  natural  abilities  :  and  this  he  performs  as  a  pre- 
parative for  fpiritual  life.     He  brings  the  finner  to 

exert 


184  '^he  Nat  are  and  Procejs  Sertii.  ^i  - 

exert  all  his  adive  pov/ers  in  feeking  this  divine  prin- 
ciple :  nature  does  her  iitmoft,  and  all  outward  means 
are  tried  before  a  fupernatural  principle  is  implanted. 

The  evangelift  John  has  given  us  the  hiilory  of  the 
refurredlion  of  the  dead  body  of  Lazarus  after  it  had 
been  four  days  in  the  grave  •,  and  I  v/ould  nov/  give 
you  the  hiftory  of  a  more  glorious  refurredtion,  the 
refurreftion  of  a  foul  that  had  lain  dead  for  months  and 
years,  and  yet  is  at  laft  quickened  by  the  fame  almigh- 
ty power  with  a  divine  and  immortal  life. 

Should  I  exemplify  it  by  a  particular  initance,  I 
might  fiK  upon  this  or  that  perfon  in  this  aiTembly, 
and  remind  you,  and  inform  others,  of  the  procefs  of 
this  work  in  your  fouls.  And  O  !  how  happy  are 
fuch  of  you,  that  you  may  be  produced  as  inftances 
in  this  cafe  ! 

You  lay  for  ten,  twenty,  thirty  years,  or  more,  dead 
in  trefpaffes  and  fins;  you  did  not  breathe  and  pant 
like  a  living  foul  after  God  and  holinefs ;  you  had 
little  more  fenfe  of  the  burden  of  fin  than  a  corpfe  of 
the  prefTure  of  a  mountain ;  you  had  no  appetite  for 
the  living  bread  that  came  down  from  heaven ;  the 
vital  pulfe  of  facred  pafiions  did  not  beat  in  your 
hearts  towards  God  and  divine  things,  but  you  lay 
putrifying  in  fin;  filthy  lufts  preyed  upon  you  like 
worms  on  the  bodies  of  the  dead  ;  you  fpread  the  con- 
tagion of  fin  around  you  by  your  converfation  and 
example,  like  the  ftench  and  corrupt  effluvia  of  a  rot- 
ten carcafs ;  you  were  odious  and  abominable  to  God, 
fit  to  be  fhut  up  in  the  infernal  pit  out  of  his  fight ; 
and  you  were  objefts  of  horror  and  lamentation  to  all 
that  knew  and  duly  confidered  your  cafe,  your  deplo- 
rable cafe.  During  this  time  many  quickening  appli- 
cations were  made  to  you;  vou  had  friends  that  ufed 
all  means  to  bring  you  to  life  again ;  but  alas  !  all  in 
vain;  confcience  proved  your  friend,  and  pierced  and 
chafed  you,  to  bring  you  to  fome  feeling,  but  you 
remained  flill  fenfelefs,  or  the  fymptoms  of  life  foon 
vanifhed.— God  did  not  caft  you  away  as  irrecoverably 

dead> 


Serm.  5-  of fpiritual  Life.  185 

dead,  but  ftirred  and  agitated  you  within,  and  ftrug- 
gled  long  with  the  principles.of  death  to  fubdue  them : 
and,  if  it  was  your  happy  lot  to  live  under  a  faithful 
miniftry,  the  living  oracles  that  contain  the  feeds  of 
the  divine  life  were  applied  to  you  with  care  and  foli- 
citude.  The  terrors  of  the  Lord  were  thundered  in 
your  ears  to  awaken  you.  The  experiment  of  a  Sa- 
viour's dying  love,  and  the  rich  grace  of  the  gofpel, 
were  repeatedly  tried  upon  you  :  now  you  were  carri- 
ed within  hearing  of  the  heavenly  mufic,  and  within 
fight  of  the  glories  of  Paradife,  to  try  if  thefe  would 
charm  you  •,  now  you  were,  as  it  were,  held  over  the 
flames  of  hell,  that  they  might  by  their  pungent  pains 
fcorch  and  iiartle  you  into  life.  Providence  alfo  con- 
curred with  thefe  applications,  and  tried  to  recover 
you  by  mercies  and  judgments,  ficknefe  and  health, 
lofTes  and  poffelfions,  difappointments  and  fuccefles, 
threatenings  and  deliveranjces.  If  it  was  your  un- 
happy lot  to  lie  among  dead  fouls  like  yourfelf,  you 
had  indeed  but  little  pity  from  them,  nay,  they  and 
Satan  were  plying  you  with  their  opiates  and  poifon  to 
confirm  the  deadly  fleep.  And  O  1  how  aftonifhing 
is  it  that  you  fhould  be  quickened  in  a  chai-nel-houfe» 
in  the  manfions  of  the  dead,  with  dead  fouls  lying  all 
round  you  !  But  if  it  was  your  happinefs  to  be  in  the 
fociety  of  the  living,  they  pitied  you,  they  ftirred  and 
agitated  you  with  their  warnings  and  perfuafions,  they, 
like  Martha  and  Mary  in  behalf  of  their  deceafed  bro- 
ther, went  to  Jefus  with  their  cries  and  importunities, 
"  Lord,  my  child,  my  parent,  my  fervant,  my  neigh- 
bour is  dead,  O  come  and  reftore  him  to  life !  Lord, 
if  thou  hadft  been  here,  he  would  not  have  died ;  but 
even  now  I  laiow  it  is  not  too  late  for  thee  to  raife 
him."  Thus,  when  one  is  dead  in  our  heavenly  Fa- 
ther's family,  the  whole  houfe  fhould  be  alarmed,  and 
all  the  domeftics  be  bufy  in  trying  to  bring  him  to  life 
again.  But  O  !  reflect  with  fliame  and  forrow  how 
long  all  thefe  quickening  applications  were  in  vain^ 
you  ftill  lay  in  a  dead  fleep,  or,  if  at  times  you  feem- 


iB6  The  Nature  and  Procefs  Serm.  5. 

ed  to  move,  and  gave  us  hopes  you  were  coming  to 
life  again,  you  foon  relapfed,  and  grew  as  fenfelefs  as 
ever.  And  alas  !  are  there  not  fome  of  you  in  this 
condition  to  this  very  moment  ?  O  deplorable  fight ! 
May  the  hour  come,  and  O  that  this  may  be  the  hour, 
in  which  fuch  dead  (oulsjhall  hear  the  voice  of  the  Son 
of  God  and  live.  John  v.  25. 

But  as  to  fuch  of  you  in  whom  I  would  exemplify 
tnis  hiftory  of  a  fpii-itual  refurredlion  when  your  cafe 
was  thus  deplorable,  and  feemingly  helplefs,  the  hap- 
py hour,  the  time  of  love  came,  when  you  muft  live. 
When  all  thefe  applications  had  been  unfuccefsful, 
the  all-quickening  fpirit  of  God  determined  to  exert 
more  of  his  energy,  and  work  more  effectually  upon 
you.  Perhaps  a  verfe  in  your  Bible,  a  fentence  in  a 
iermon,  an  alarming  providence,  the  converfation  of  a 
pious  friend,  or  fomething  that  unexpectedly  occurred 
to  your  own  thoughts,  firft  ftruck  your  minds  with 
unufual  force  ;  you  found  you  could  not  harden  your- 
felves  againft  it  as  you  were  wont  to  do  ;  it  was  attend- 
ed with  a  power  you  never  before  had  felt,  and  which 
you  could  not  refift:  this  made  you  thoughtful  and 
penfive,  and  turned  your  minds  to  objec^ts  that  you 
were  wont  to  neglec51; ;  this  made  you  ftand  and  paufe, 
and  think  of  the  ftatc  of  your  neglected  fouls  :  you 
began  to  fear  matters  were  v/rong  with  you  ;  "  What 
will  become  of  me  when  I  leave  this  world  ^  where 
fhall  I  refide  for  ever  ?  Am  I  prepared  for  the  eter- 
nal world  ?  How  have  I  fpent  my  life.?'*  Thefe, 
and  the  like  inquiries  put  you  to  a  ftand,  and  you 
could  not  pafs  over  them  fo  fuperficially  as  you  were 
wont  to  do  i  your  fins  now  appeared  to  you  in  a  new 
light  j  you  were  fhocked  and  furprized  at  their  malig- 
nant nature,  their  number,  their  aggravations,  and 
their  dreadful  confequenccs.  The  great  God,  whom 
you  were  wont  to  neglec5l,  appeared  to  you  as  a  Being 
that  demanded  your  regard  ;  you  faw  he  was  indeed  a 
venerable,  awful,  majeftic  Being,  with  whom  you  had 
the  mod  important  concern :  in  Ihort,  you  fdw  that 

fuch 


Serm.  5»  of  fpiritual  Life.  o[8|r 

fuch  a  life  as  you  had  Jed  would  never  bring  you  to 
heaven:  you  faw  you  muft  make  religion  more  vour 
bufinefs  than  you  had  ever  done,  and  hereupon  you 
altered  your  former  courfe  ;  you  broke  off  from  feve- 
ral  of  your  vices,  you  deferted  your  extravagant  com- 
pany, and  you  began  to  frequent  the  throne  of  grace, 
to  ftudy  religion,  and  to  attend  upon  its  inftitutions  i 
and  this  you  did  with  fome  degree  o^  earneftnefs  and 
foJicitude. 

When  you  were  thus  reformed,  you  began  to  flat- 
ter yourfelves  that  you  had  efcaped  out  of  your  dan- 
gerous condition,  and  fecured  the  divine  favour  ;  now 
you  began  to  view  yourfelves  with  fecret  fe!f-applaufe 
as  true  Chriftians;  but  all  this  time  the  reformation 
was  only  outward,  and  there  was  no  new  principle  of 
a  divine  fupernatural  life  implanted  in  your  hearts : 
you  had  not  the  generous  paffions  and  fenfations  of 
•living  fouls  towards  God,  but  a6led  entirely  from  na- 
tural, feififh  principles  :  you  had  no  clear  heart-affeft- 
ing  views  of  the  intrinfic  evil,  and  odious  nature  of 
iin,  confidered  in  itfelf,  nor  of  the  entire  univerfal 
corruption  of  your  nature,  and  the  neceflity  not  only 
of  adorning  your  outer  man  by  an  external  reforma- 
tion, but  of  an  inward  change  of  heart  by  the  almigh- 
ty power  of  God  :  you  were  not  deeply  fenfible  of  the 
extent  and  fpirituality  of  the  divine  law,  nor  of  the 
infinite  purity  and  inexorable  juftice  of  the  Deity  : 
you  had  no  love  for  religion  and  virtue  for  their  own 
fakes,  but  only  on  account  of  their  happy  confequences. 
Indeed  your  love  of  novelty  and  a  regard  to  your  own 
happinefs  might  fo  work  upon  you,  for  a  time,  that 
you  might  have  very  raifed  and  delightful  paffions  in 
religious  duties-,  but  all  your  religion  at  that  time  was 
•a  mere  fyftem  of  felfifhnefs,  and  you  had  no  generous 
difinterefted  delight  in  holinefs  for  its  own  excellency, 
nor  did  you  heartily  relifh  the  ftriftnefs  of  pure,  living 
religion :  you  were  alfo  under  the  government  of  a 
felf-righteous  fpirit:  your  own  good  works  were  the 
ground  of  your  hopes,  and  you  had  no  relifh  for  the 

mprtifyino- 


iSS  ^he Ndture  and  Procefs  Serm.  5;. 

mortifying  dodrine  of  falvation  through  the  mere 
mercy  of  God  and  the  righteoufnefs  of  Jefus  Chrift: 
though  your  education  taught  you  to  acknowledge 
Chrift  as  the  only  Saviour,  and  afcribe  all  your  hopes 
to  his  death,  yet  in  reality  he  was  of  very  little  im- 
portance in  your  religion  •,  he  had  but  little  place  in 
your  heart  and  affedions,  even  when  you  urged  his 
name  as  your  only  plea  at  the  throne  of  grace  :  in 
fliort,  you  had  not  the  fpirit  of  the  gofpel,  nor  any 
fpiritual  life  v;ithin  you.  And  this  is  all  the  religion 
with  which  multitudes  are  contented :  with  this  they 
obtain  a  name  that  they  live  ;  but  in  the  fight  of  God, 
and  in  reality,  they  are  dead  •,  and  had  you  been  fuf- 
fered  to  reft  here,  according  to  your  own  defire,  you 
would  have  been  dead  ftill. 

But  God,  who  is  rich  (O  how  inconceivably  rich  !) 
in  mercy,  for  the  great  love  wherewith  he  loved  you, 
refolved  to  carry  on  his  work  in  you  •,  and  therefore, 
■while  you  were  flattering  yourfelves,  and  elated  with 
a  proud  conceit  of  a  happy  change  in  your  condition, 
he  furprized  you  with  a  very  different  view  of  your 
cafe;  he  opened  your  eyes  farther,  and  then  you  faw, 
you  felt  thofe  things,  of  which  till  then  you  had  little 
fenfe  or  apprehenfion;  fuch  as  the  corruption  of  your 
hearts,  the  awful  ftridnefs  of  the  divine  law,  your 
utter  inability  to  yield  perfed  obedience,  and  the  ne- 
ceflity  of  an  inward  change  of  the  inclinations  and  re- 
liflies  of  your  foul.  Thefe,  and  a  great  many  other 
things  of  a  like  nature,  broke  in  upon  your  minds 
"with  ftriking  evidence,  and  a  kind  of  almighty  ener- 
gy ;  and  now  you  faw  you  were  ftill  "  dead  in  fin," 
weak,  indifpofed,  averfe  towards  fpiritual  things,  and 
**  dead  in  law,"  condenmed  to  everlafting  death  and 
mifery  by  its  righteous  fentence  :  now  you  fet  about 
the  duties  of  religion  with  more  earneftnefs  than  ever  ; 
now  you  prayed,  you  heard,  and  ufed  the  other  means 
of  grace  as  for  your  life,  for  you  faw  that  your  eternal 
life  was  indeed  at  ftake  ;  and  now,  when  you  put  the 
awtter  to  a  thorough  trial,  you  were  more  fenfible 

than 


Serm.  5-  -ef  fpiritual  Life.  18^ 

than  ever  of  your  own  weaknefs,  and  the  difficulties 
in  your  way.  "  O !  who  would  have  thought  my 
heart  had  been  fo  depraved  that  it  iTiould  thus  fly  off 
from  God,  and  ftruggle  and  reludlate  againft  return- 
ing to  him  ?'*  fuch  was  then  your  language..  Alas  ! 
you  found  yourfelves  quite  helplefs,  aixi  all  your  ef- 
forts feeble  and  ineffedlual  •,  then  you  perceived  your- 
felves really  dead  in  fin,  and  that  you  muft  continue 
{o  to  all  eternity,  unlefs  quickened  by  a  power  infinite- 
ly fuperior  to  your  own  :  not  that  you  lay  (lothful  and 
inaftive  at  this  time ;  no,  never  did  you  exert  your- 
felves fo  vigoroufly  in  all  your  life,  never  did  you  be- 
fiege  the  throne  of  grace  with  fuch  earneft  importuni- 
ty, never  did  you  hear  and  read  with  fuch  eager  atten- 
tion, or  make  fuch  a  vigorous  refiftance  againfl:  fin  and 
temptation  :  all  your  natural  powers  were  exerted  to 
the  higheft  pitch,  for  now  you  faw  your  cafe  required 
it :  but  you  found  all  your  moft  vigorous  endeavours 
infufficient,  and  you  were  fenfible  that,  without  the 
afliftance  of  a  fuperior  power,  the  work  of  religion 
could  never  be  effefted. 

Now  you  were  reduced  very  low  indeed.  While 
you  imagined  you  could  render  yourfelves  fafe  by  a 
reformation  in  your  own  power,  you  v/ere  not  much 
alarmed  at  your  condition,  though  you  faw  it  bad. 
But  O !  to  feel  yourfelves  dead  in  fin,  and  that  you 
cannot  help  yourfelves  •,  to  fee  yourfelves  in  a  fi:ate  of 
condemnation,  liable  to  execution  every  moment,  and 
yet  to  find  all  your  own  endeavours  utterly  infufficient 
to  relieve  you  ;  to  be  obliged,  after  all  you  had  done, 
to  lie  at  mercy,  and  confefs  that  you  were  as  deferving 
of  everlafting  punifhment  as  ever  the  moft  notorious 
criminal  was  of  the  ftroke  af  public  juftice :  this  was 
a  ftate  of  extreme  dejection,  terror,  and  anxiety  in- 
deed. The  proud,  felf- confident  creatine  v;as  never 
thoroughly  mortified  and  humbled  till  now,  when  he 
is  fiain  by  the  law,  and  entirely  cut  off  from  all  hopes 
from  himfelf. 

And 


$•90  The  Naiure  and  Procefs  Serm.  5.^ 

And  now,  finding  you  could  not  fave  yourfelveSg 
you  began  to  caft  about  you,  and  look  out  for  another 
to  fave  you :  now  you  were  more  fenfible  than  ever 
of  the  abfolute  need  of  Jefus ;  and  you  cried  and 
reached  after  him,  and  ftirred  up  yourfelves  to  take 
hold  of  him.  The  gofpel  brought  the  free  offer  of 
him  to  your  ears,  and  you  would  fain  have  accepted 
of  him  J  but  here  new  difficulties  arofe.  Alas !  you 
did  not  think  yourfelves  good  enough  to  accept  of 
him,  and  hence  you  took  a  great  deal  of  fruitlefs  pains 
to  make  yourfelves  better :  you  alfo  found  your  hearts 
ftrangely  averfe  to  the  gofpel-method  of  fajvation, 
and,  though  a  {tvSt  of  your  neceffity  made  you  try 
to  work  up  yourfelves  to  an  approbation  of  it,  yet 
you  could  not  aifedionately  acquiefce  in  it,  and  cordi- 
ally relifh  it. 

And  now,  how  melancholy  was  your  fituation ! 
you  were  "  fhut  up  to  the  faith i"  Gal.  iii.  23.  there 
was  no  other  poffible  way  of  efcspe,  and  yet,  alas! 
you  could  not  take  this  way  :  now  you  were  ready  to 
cry,  "  I  am  cut  off:  my  ftrength  and  my  hope  are 
perifhed  from  the  Lord  j"  but,  bleffed  be  God,  he 
did  not  leave  you  in  this  condition.  Man's  extremity 
of  diflrefs  is  God's  opportunity  for  relief  and  falva- 
tion  ;  and  fo  you  found  it. 

Now  the  procefs  of  preparatory  operations  is  juft 
come  to  a  refult.  Now  it  is  time  for  God  to  work, 
for  nature  has  done  her  utmoft,  and  has  been  found 
utterly  infuflicient ;  now  it  is  proper  a  divine  fuper- 
natural  principle  ihould  be  infufed,  for  all  the  princi- 
ples of  nature  have  failed,  and  the  proud  finner  is  ob- 
liged to  own  it,  and  fland  ftill,  and  fee  the  falvation 
of  God.  In  this  fituation  you  wanted  nothing  but 
fuch  a  divine  principle  to  make  you  living  chriflians 
indeed.  Thefe  preparatives  were  like  the  taking  away 
the  flone  from  the  fepulchre  of  Lazarus,  which  was 
a  prelude  of  that  almighty  voice  which  called  him 
from  the  dead.  Now  you  appear  to  me  like  the  dry 
bones  in  Ezekiel's  vifion,  in  one  flage  of  tlie  operation. 

After 


Serm.  5.  of  fpiritual  Life.  191 

After  there  had  been  a  noife,  and  a  fhaking  among 
them,  and  the  bones  had  come  togetlier,  bone  to  his 
bone;  /  beheldy  fays  he,  and  lo^  the  ftnews  and  the 
flejh  came  up  upon  them^  and  the  Jkin  covered  them  above-, 
but  there  was  no  breath  in  them  \  Ezek.  xxxvii.  8.  this 
was  all  that  was  wanting  to  make  them  living  men.  In 
like  manner  you  at  this  time  had  the  external  appear- 
ance of  chriftians,  but  you  had  no  divine  fupernatural 
life  in  you  \  you  were  but  the  fair  carcafes  of  chrif- 
tians ;  your  religion  had  a  body  completely  formed, 
but  it  had  no  foul  in  it ;  and,  had  the  holy  fpirit  now 
given  over  his  work,  you  would  have  continued  dead 
ftill. 

But  now  the  important  crifis  is  come,  when  he  who 
flood  over  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  and  pronounced  the 
life-reftoring  mandate,  Lazarus^  come  forth  \  when  he 
who  breathed  into  Adam  the  breath  of  life,  and  made 
him  a  living  foul  •,  I  fay,  now  the  crifis  is  come,  when 
he  will  implant  the  principles  of  life  in  your  fouls ; 
fuddenly  you  feel  the  amazing  change,  and  find  you 
are  ading  from  principles  entirely  new  to  you  ;  for 
now  your  hearts  that  were  wont  to  relu6late,  and  ftart 
back  from  God,  rife  to  him  with  the  ftrongeft  afpira- 
tions :  now  the  way  of  falvation  through  Chrift,  which 
you  could  never  relifh  before,  appears  all  amiable  and 
glorious,  and  captivates  your  whole  fouls.  Hoiinefs 
has  lovely  and  powerful  charms,  v/hich  captivate  you 
to  the  moft  willing  obedience,  notwithflanding  your 
former  difguft  to  it  •,  and,  though  once  you  were  en- 
amoured with  fin,  or  difliked  it  only  becaufe  you  could 
not  indulge  it  with  impunity,  it  now  appears  to  you  a 
mere  mafs  of  corruption  and  deformity,  an  abomina- 
ble thing,  which  you  hate  above  all  other  things  on 
earth  or  in  hell.  At  this  junflure  you  were  animated 
with  a  new  life  in  every  faculty  of  your  fouls,  and 
hereupon  you  felt  the  inftinAs,  the  appetites,  the  fym- 
pathies  and  antipathies  of  a  new  hfe,  a  divine  life, 
juflly  itiled  by  the  apoftle  the  life  of  God;  the  life  of 
God  in  the  foul  of  man.     The  pulfe  of  facred  pailions 


192  ^be  Nature  and  Procefs  Serm.  5. « 

began  to  beat  towards  fpiritual  objefts ;  the  vital 
warmth  of  love  fpread  itfelf  through  your  whole 
frame;  you  breathed  out  your  defires  and  prayers  be- 
fore God  •,  like  a  new-born  infant  you  began  to  cry 
after  him,  and  at  times  you  have  learned  to  lifp  his 
name  with  filial  endearment,  and  cry  jibba^  Father ; 
you  hungered  and  thirfted  after  righteoufnefs,  and  as 
every  kind  of  life  mull  have  its  proper  nourilhment, 
fo  your  fpiritual  life  fed  upon  Chrift,  the  living  bread, 
and  the  fincere  milk  ot  his  word.  You  alfo  felt  a  new 
fet  of  fenfations  •,  divine  things  now  made  deep  and 
tender  impreflions  upon  you;  the  great  realities  of  re- 
ligion and  eternity  now  afFeded  you  in  a  manner  un- 
known before  -,  you  like  wife  found  your  fouls  adluated 
with  life  and  vigour  in  the  fervice  of  God,  and  in  the 
duties  you  owed  to  m.ankind.  This  ftrange  alteration, 
no  doubt,  filled  you  with  furprize  and  amazement, 
fomething  Hke  that  of  Adam  when  he  found  himfelf 
ftart  into  life  out  of  his  eternal  non-exiftence.  With 
thefe  new  fenfations  every  thing  appeared  to  you  in  a 
quite  different  light,  and  you  could  not  but  wonder 
that  you  had  never  perceived  them  in  that  manner 
before. 

Thus,  my  dear  brethren,  when  you  were  even  dead 
in  fin,  God  quickened  you  together  with  Chrift.  It 
is  true,  the  principle  of  life  might  be  very  weak  at  firft, 
like  the  life  of  a  new-born  infant,  or  a  fcetus  juft  ani- 
•mated  in  the  womb  :  nay,  it  may  be  but  very  weak 
flil),  and  at  times  may  languifli,  and  feem  juft  expir- 
ing in  the  agonies  of  death ;  but,  blefied  be  the  quick- 
ening fpirit  of  Chrift,  fince  the  happy  hour  of  your 
refurredion  you  have  never  been,  and  you  never  will 
be  to  all  eternity,  what  you  once  were,  "  dead  in  tref- 
pafTes  and  fins."  Should  I  give  you  your  own  hiftory 
fince  that  time,  it  would  be  to  this  purpofe,  and  you 
will  difcern  many  fymptoms  of  life  in  it.  You  have 
often  known  what  ficknefs  of  foul  is,  as  well  as  of 
body ;  and  fometimes  it  has  rifen  to  fuch  a  height  as 
tp  endanger  your  fpiritual  life.     The  feeds  of  fin,  that 

ftill 


Serm.  5*  of  fpiritual Life.  igj 

ftill  lurk  in  your  conftitution,  like  the  principles  of 
death,  or  a  deadly  poifon  circulating  through  your 
veins,  have  often  ftruggled  for  the  maftery,  and  caft 
you  into  languifhing  or  violent  diforders  ;  then  was 
the  divine  life  opprefled,  and  you  could  not  freely 
draw  the  breath  of  prayer  and  pious  defires  ;  you  loft 
the  appetite  for  the  word  of  God,  and  what  you  re- 
ceived did  not  digeft  well  and  turn  to  kindly  nourifh- 
ment;  the  pulfe  of  facred  pallions  beat  faint  and  irre- 
gular, the  vital  heat  decayed,  and  you  felt  a  death-like 
cold  creeping  upon  you  and  benumbing  you.  Some- 
times you  have  been  afBiAed,  perhaps,  with  convul- 
fions  of  violent  and  outrageous  palTions,  with  the 
dropfy  of  infatiable  defires  after  things  below,  with 
the  lethargy  of  carnal  fecurity,  or  the  fever  of  luft  : 
at  other  times  you  have  felt  an  univerfal  diforder 
through  your  v/hole  frame,  and  you  hardly  knew 
what  ailed  you,  only  you  were  fure  your  fouls  were 
not  well;  but  perhaps  your  moft  common  diforder 
that  feizes  you  is  a  kind  of  confumption,  a  lownefs 
of  fpirits,  a  languor  and  weaknefs,  the  want  of  ap- 
petite for  your  fpiritual  food,  or  perhaps  a  naufea  and 
difguft  towards  it;  you  alfo  live  in  a  country  very  un- 
wholefome  to  living  fouls  ;  you  dwell  among  the  dead, 
and  catch  contagion  from  the  converfation  of  thofe 
around  you,  and  this  heightens  the  diforder :  add  fur- 
ther, that  old  ferpent  the  devil  labours  to  infeft  you 
with  his  deadly  poifon,  and  increafe  the  peccant  hu- 
mours by  his  temptations :  atfuch  times  you  can  hard- 
ly feel  any  workings  of  fpiritual  life  in  you,  and  you 
fear  you  are  entirely  dead ;  but  examine  ftridly,  and 
you  will  difcover  fome  vital  fymptoms  even  in  this  bad 
habit  of  foul ;  for  does  not  your  new  nature  exert  it- 
felf  to  work  off  the  diforder  ?  Are  not  your  fpirits 
in  a  ferment,  and  do  you  not  feel  yourfelves  in  exqui- 
fite  pain,  or  at  leaft  greatly  uneafy  ?  Give  all  the 
world  to  a  fick  man,  and  he  defpifes  it  all :  "  O  give 
me  my  health,"  fays  he,  "  or  you  give  me  nothing." 
So  it  is  with  you ;  nothing  can  content  you  while  your 

C  c  ibuls 


194  '^^^  Nature  and  Frocefs  S^rm.  5,  , 

fouls  are  thus  out  of  order.  Do  you  not  long  for  their 
recovery,  that  you  may  go  about  your  bufinefs  again  , 
I  mean  that  you  may  engage  in  the  fervice  of  God 
with  all  the  vigour  of  health  ?  and  do  you  not  apply 
to  Chrift  as  your  only  phyfician  in  this  condition  ? 
And  O  !  what  an  healing  balm  is  his  blood  !  what  a 
reviving  cordial  is  his  love  !  and  how  kindly  does  his 
fpirit  purge  off  the  corrupt  humours,  and  fubdue  the 
principles  of  fin  and  death  !  Has  not  experience 
taught  you  the  meaning  of  the  apoftle,  when  he  fays, 
Chriji  is  our  life:  and  I  live,  yet  not  /,  hit  Chrift  liveth 
in  me.  Gal.  ii.  20.  Do  you  not  percieve  that  Chrift 
is  your  vital  head,  and  that  you  revive  or  languifh  juft 
as  he  communicates  or  withholds  his  influence  ?  And 
have  you  not  been  taught  in  the  fame  way  what  is  the 
meaning  of  that  expreffion  fo  often  repeated,  Thejuji 
jhall  live  by  his  faith  ?  Hab.  ii.  4.  Do  you  not  find 
that  faith  is,  as  it  were,  the  grand  artery  by  which 
you  derive  life  from  Chrift,  and  by  which  it  is  circu- 
lated through  your  whole  frame  •,  and  that  when  faith 
languifhes,  then  you  weaken,  pine  away,  and  perhaps 
fall  into  a  fwoon,  as  though  you  were  quite  dead  ? 
Are  you  not  careful  of  the  health  of  your  fouls  ?  You 
endeavour  to  keep  them  warm  with  the  love  of  God  ; 
you  fhun  thofe  fickly  regions  as  far  as  you  can,  where 
the  example  and  converfation  of  the  wicked  fpread 
their  deadly  infection,  and  you  love  to  dwell  among 
living  fouls,  and  breathe  in  their  wholefome  air. 
Upon  the  whole,  it  is  evident,  notwithftanding  your 
frequent  indifpofitions,  you  have  fome  life  within  you  : 
life  takes  occafion  to  fhew  itfelf,  even  from  your  dif- 
orders.  It  is  a  plain  fymptom  of  it,  that  you  have 
fomething  within  you  that  makes  fuch  a  vigorous  re- 
fiftance  againft  the  principles  of  {\n  and  death,  and 
throws  your  whole  frame  into  a  ferment,  till  it  has 
wrought  off  the  diftemper.  In  ftiort,  you  have  the 
fenfations,  the  fympathies  and  antipathies,  the  plea- 
fures  and  pains  of  living  fouls. 

And 


Serm.  5.  offpiritualLife.  155 

And  is  it  fo  indeed?  Then  from  this  moment 
begin  to  rejoice  and  blefs  the  Lord,  who  raifed  you 
to  fpiritual  life.  O  let  the  hearts  he  has  quickened 
beat  with  his  love-,  let  the  lips  he  has  opened,  when 
quivering  in  death,  fpeak  his  praife,  and  devote  that 
life  to  him  which  he  has  given  you,  and  which  he  ftill 
fupports  ! 

Confider  what  a  divine  and  noble  kind  of  life  he 
has  given  you.  It  is  a  capacity  and  aptitude  for  the 
moil  exalted  and  divine  fervices  and  enjoyments.  Now 
you  have  a  relifh  for  the  Supreme  Good  as  your  hap- 
pinefs,  the  only  proper  food  for  your  immortal  fouls, 
and  he  will  not  fuffer  you  to  hunger  and  thirft  in  vain, 
but  will  fatisfy  the  appetities  he  has  implanted  in  your 
nature.  You  have  fome  fpirit  and  life  in  his  fervice, 
and  are  not  like  the  dead  fouls  around  you,  that  are 
all  alive  towards  other  objedls,  but  abfolutely  dead  to- 
wards him :  you  have  alfo  noble  and  exalted  fenfations  j 
you  are  capable  of  a  fet  of  pleafures  of  a  more  refined 
and  fublime  nature  than  what  are  relifhed  by  groveling 
finners.  From  your  inmoft  fouls  you  deteft  and  nau- 
feate  whatever  is  mean,  bafe,  and  abominable,  and 
you  can  feaft  on  what  is  pure,  amiable,  excellent,  and 
worthy  of  your  love.  Your  vitiated  tafte  for  trafn 
and  poifon  is  cured,  and  you  feed  upon  heavenly 
bread,  upon  food  agreeable  to  the  conllitution  of  your 
fpiritual  nature  ;  and  hence  you  may  infer  your  meet- 
nefs  for  the  heavenly  world,  that  region  of  perfecl  vi- 
tality. You  have  a  difpofition  for  its  enjoyments  and 
fervices,  and  this  is  the  grand  preparative.  God  will 
not  encumber  the  heaven  of  his  glory  with  dead  fouls, 
nor  infed:  the  pure  falubrious  air  of  Paradife  with  the 
poifon  of  their  corruption ;  but  the  everlafting  doors 
are  always  open  for  living  fouls,  and  not  one  ot  them 
fhall  ever  be  excluded  j  nay,  the  life  of  heaven  is  al- 
ready within  youi  the  life  that  reigns  with  immortal 
health  and  vigour  above,  is  the  very  fame  with  that 
which  works  in  your  breads  •,  only  there  it  is  arrived 
to  maturity  and  perfedion,  and  here  it  is  in  its  rudi- 
ments 


196  The  Nature  and  Procefs  Serm.  5. 

ments  and  weaknefs.  Your  animal  life,  which  was 
hardly  perceivable  in  the  womb,  v/as  the  very  fame 
with  that  which  now  pofTefTes  you,  only  now  it  is 
come  to  perfedion.  Thus  you  are  now  angels  in  em- 
bryo, the  foetus  (might  I  be  allowed  the  expreffion) 
of  glorified  immortals-,  and  when  you  are  born  out 
of  the  womb  of  time  into  the  eternal  world,  this  fee- 
ble fpark  of  fpiritual  life  will  kindle  and  blaze,  and 
render  you  as  adive  and  vigorous  as  "  the  rapt  feraph 
that  adorns  and  burns."  Then  you  will  feel  no  more 
weaknefs,  no  more  languors,  no  more  qualms  of  in- 
difpofition ;  the  poifon  of  temptation  and  the  conta- 
gion of  bad  example  cannot  reach  you  there  ;  and  the 
inward  feeds  of  ficknefs  and  death  will  be  purged  en- 
tirely out  of  your  fouls  :  you  will  be  got  quite  out  of 
the  fickly  country,  and  breathe  a  pure  reviving  air, 
the  natural  element  of  your  fouls.  There  you  will 
find  the  fountain,  yea,  whole  rivers  of  the  waters  of 
life,  of  which  you  will  drink  in  large  draughts  for 
ever  and  ever,  and  which  will  infpire  you  with  immor- 
tal life  and  vigour.  O  how  happy  are  you  in  this 
iingie  gift  of  fpiritual  life  !  this  is  a  life  that  cannot 
perifh,  even  in  the  ruins  of  the  world.  What  though 
you  muft  ere  long  yield  your  mortal  bodies  and  animal 
life  to  death  and  rottennefs  ?  your  moft  important  life 
is  immortal,  and  fubjedt  to  no  fuch  dillblution ;  and 
therefore  be  courageous  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  and 
bid  defiance  to  all  the  calamities  of  life,  and  all  the 
terrors  of  death  ;  for  your  life  is  hid  ivith  Chrijl  in  God-, 
and  when  Chrijt^  who  is  your  life^  Jhall  appear^  thenjloall 
you  alfo  appear  with  him  in  glory.  Col.  iii.  3,  4. 

I  would  willingly  go  on  in  this  ftrain,  and  leave 
the  pulpit  with  a  relifh  of  thefe  delightful  truths  upon 
my  fpirit ;  but,  alas  !  I  muft  turn  my  addrefs  to  ano- 
ther fet  of  perfons  in  this  afTembly ;  but  "  where  is 
the  Lord  God  of  Elijah,"  who  reftored  the  Shuna- 
mite's  fon  to  life  by  means  of  that  prophet  ?  I  am 
going  to  call  to  the  dead,  and  I  know  they  will  not 
hear,  unlefs  he  attend  mv  feeble  voice  with  his  almigh- 
ty 


Serm.  5-  of  fpiritual  Life.  k^j 

ty  power.  I  would  pray  over  you,  like  Elijah  over 
the  dead  child,  O  Lord  God^  ki  this  finnefs  life  come 
into  him  again,  i  Kings  xvii.  2 1 .  Are  not  the  living 
and  the  dead  promifcuoufly  blended  in  this  alTembly  ? 
Here  is  a  dead  foul,  there  another,  and  there  another, 
all  over  the  houfe ;  and  here  and  there  a  few  living 
fouls  thinly  fcattered  among  them.  Have  you  ever 
.been  carried  through  fuch  a  preparatory  procefs  as  I 
have  defcribed  ^  or  if  you  are  uncertain  about  this,  as 
fome  may  be  who  are  animated  with  fpiritual  life,  in- 
quire, have  you  the  feelings,  the  appetites  and  aver- 
fions,  the  pleafing  and  the  painful  fenfations  of  living 
fouls  ?  Methinks  confcience  breaks  its  filence  in  fome 
of  you,  whether  you  will  or  not,  and  cries,  "  O  noj 
there  is  not  a  fpark  of  life  in  this  breaft." 

Well,  my  poor  deceafed  friends  (for  fo  I  may  call 
you)  I  hope  you  will  ferioufly  attend  to  what  I  am  go- 
ing ferioufly  to  fay  to  you.  I  have  no  bad  defign 
upon  you,  but  only  to  reftore  you  to  life.  And  though 
your  cafe  is  really  difcouraging,  yet  I  hope  it  is  not 
quite  defperate.  The  principles  of  nature,  reafon, 
felf-Iove,  joy,  and  fear  are  ftiU  alive  in  you,  and  you 
are  capable  of  fome  application  to  divine  things.  And, 
as  I  told  you,  it  is  upon  the  principles  of  nature  that 
God  is  wont  to  work,  to  prepare  the  foul  for  the  in- 
fufion  of  a  fupernatural  life.  And  thefe  I  would  now 
work  upon,  in  hopes  you  are  not  proof  againfl:  confi- 
derations  of  the  greateft  weight  and  energy.  I  earneftly 
beg  you  would  lay  to  heart  fuch  things  as  thefe. 

Can  you  content  yourfelves  with  an  animal  life,  the 
life  of  beafts,  with  that  fuperfluity,  reafon,  juft  to 
render  you  a  more  ingenious  and  felf-tormenting  kind 
of  brutes  •,  more  artful  in  gratifying  your  fordid  ap- 
petites, and  yet  ftill  uneafy  for  want  of  an  unknown 
Something  -,  a  care  that  the  brutal  world,  being  defti- 
tute  of  reafon,  are  unmolefted  with  ?  O  !  have  you 
no  ambition  to  be  animated  with  a  divine  immortal 
life,  the  life  of  God  I 

Can 


198    "The  Nature  and  Procefe  of  fpiritual  Life.    Serm .  5 .  > 

Can  you  be  contented  with  a  mere  temporal  life, 
when  your  fouls  muft  exift  for  ever  ?  That  infinite 
world  beyond  the  grave  is  replenifhed  with  nothing 
but  the  terrors  of  death  to  you,  if  you  are  deftitute 
of  fpiritual  life.  And  O  can  you  bear  the  thought 
of  refiding  among  its  grim  and  ghaftly  terrors  for 
ever  ? 

Are  you  contented  to  be  cut  off  from  God,  as  a 
mortified  member  from  the  body,  and  to  be  banifhed 
for  ever  from  all  the  joys  of  his  prefence  ?  You  can- 
not be  admitted  to  heaven  without  fpiritual  life.  Hell 
IS  the  fepulchre  for  dead  fouls,  and  thither  you  mufi: 
be  fent,  if  you  ftill  continue  dead.  And  does  not  this 
thought  affe6t  you  ? 

Confider  alfo,  now  is  the  only  time  in  which  you 
can  be  reftored  to  life.  And  O  !  will  you  let  it  pafs 
by  without  improvement  ? 

Shall  all  the  means  that  have  been  ufed  for  your  re- 
vival be  in  vain  ?  Or  the  ftrivings  of  the  fpirit,  the 
alarms  of  your  own  confciences,  the  bleffings  and 
chaftifements  of  Providence,  the  perfuafions,  tears^ 
and  lamentations  of  your  living  friends,  O  !  fhall  ail 
thefe  be  in  vain  ?  Can  you  bear  the  thought  ?  Surely, 
no.  Therefore,  O  heave  and  ftruggle  to  burft  the 
chains  of  death.  Cry  mightily  to  God  to  quicken  you. 
Ufe  all  the  means  of  vivification,  and  avoid  every 
deadly  and  contagious  thing. 

I  know  not,  my  brethren,  how  this  thought  will 
affeft  us  at  parting  to-day,  that  we  have  left  behind 
us  many  a  dead  foul.  But  fuppofe  we  fhould  leave  as 
many  bodies  here  behind  us  as  there  are  of  dead  fouls 
among  us  ;  fuppofe  every  finner  deftitute  of  fpiritual 
life  iheuld  now  be  ftruck  dead  before  us,  O  how  would 
this  floor  be  overlaid  with  dead  corpfes  !  How  few  of 
us  would  efcape  !  What  bitter  lamentations  and  tears 
would  be  among  us  !  One  would  lofe  a  hufband  or 
a  wife,  another  a  child  or  a  parent,  another  a  friend 
or  a  neighbour.  And  have  we  hearts  to  mourn  and 
tears  to  ihed  over  fuch  an  event  as  this,  and  have  we 

no 


Serm.  6.  Contrite  Spirits  Objcols  of  Divine  Favour.   199 

no  companion  for  dead  fouls  ?  Is  there  none  to  mourn 
over  them  ?  Sinners,  if  you  will  ftill  continue  dead, 
there  are  fome  here  to-day  who  part  with  you  with  this 
wifh,  O  that  my  head  ivere  waters.,  and  mine  eyes  foun- 
tains of  tears.,  that  I  might  weep  day  and  night  for  the 
Jlain  of  the  daughter  of  niy  people.  And  O  that  our 
mournings  may  reach  the  ears  of  the  Lord  of  life, 
and  tkat  you  might  be  quickened  from  your  death  in 
trefpafles  and  fins !     Amen  and  Amen. 


SERMON     VI. 

Poor  and  contrite  Spirits  the  Objecfcs  of  the  Divine 

Favour. 


Isaiah  Ixvl.  2.  I'd  this  man  will  I  look\  even  to  hint 
that  is  poor  and  of  a  contrite  Spirit,  and  trembleth  at 
my  word. 

AS  we  confift  of  animal  bodies  as  well  as  immor- 
tal fouls,  and  are  endowed  with  corporeal  fenfes 
as  well  as  rational  powers,  God,  who  has  wifely  adapt- 
ed our  religion  to  our  make,  requires  bodily  as  well 
as  fpiritual  worlhip  •,  and  commands  us  not  only  to 
exercife  the  inward  powers  of  our  minds  in  proper  atls 
of  devotion,  but  alfo  to  exprefs  our  inward  devotion 
in  fuitable  external  adlions,  and  to  attend  upon  him  in 
the  fenfible  outward  ordinances  which  he  has  appoint- 
ed. Thus  it  is  under  the  gofpel-,  but  it  was  more 
remarkably  fo  under  the  law,  which,  compared  with 
the  pure  and  fpiritual  worfhip  of  the  gofpel,  was  a 
fyftem  of  carnal  ordinances,  and  required  a  great  deal 
of  external  pomp  and  grandeur,  and  bodily  fervices. 
Thus  a  cOitly  and  magnificent  fl:ru6lure  was  ereded, 
by  divine  diredlion,  in  the  wildernefs,  called  the  ta- 
bernacle, becaufe  built  in  the  form  of  a  tent,  and  move- 
able from  place  to  place ;  and  afterwards  a  mofl:  (lately 

temple 


200  Poor  and  contrite  Spirits  Serm.  6. 

temple  was  built  by  Solomon  with  immenfe  coft,  where 
the  divine  worfhip  fhould  be  ftatedly  celebrated,  and 
where  all  the  males  of  Ifrael  fhould  folemnly  meet  for 
that  purpofe  three  times  in  the  year. 

Thefe  externals  were  not  intended  to  exclude  the 
internal  worfhip  of  the  Spirit,  but  to  exprefs  and  aflift 
it.  And  thefe  ceremonials  were  not  to  be  put  into 
the  place  of  morals,  but  obferved  as  helps  to  the  prac- 
tice of  them,  and  to  prefigure  the  great  Mefliah. 
Even  under  the  Mofaic  difpenfation,  God  had  the 
greatefl  regard  to  holinefs  of  heart  and  a  good  life; 
and  the  ftridteft  obferver  of  ceremonies  could  not  be 
accepted  without  them. 

But  it  is  natural  to  degenerate  mankind  to  invert 
the  order  of  things,  to  place  apart  the  eafieft  and 
meaneft  part  of  religion,  for  the  whole  of  it,  to  reft 
in  the  externals  of  religion  as  fufficient,  without  re- 
garding the  heart,  and  to  depend  upon  a  pharifaical 
ftri(^nefs  in  ceremonial  obfervances,  as  an  excufe  or 
atonement  for  negledling  the  weightier  matters  of  the 
law,  judgment,  mercy,  and  faith. 

This  was  the  unhappy  error  of  the  Jews  in  Ifaiah's 
time ;  and  th's  the  Lord  would  corredl  in  the  firft 
verfes  of  this  chapter. 

The  Jews  gloried  in  their  having  the  houfe  of  God 
among  them,  and  were  ever  trufting  in  vain  words, 
faying,  The  temple  of  the  Lord^  the  temple  of  the  Lord, 
the  temple  of  the  Lord  are  thefe.  Jer.  vii.  4.  They 
filled  his  altars  with  coftly  facrifices  j  and  in  thefe  they 
trufted  to  make  atonement  for  fin,  and  fecure  the  di- 
vine favour. 

As  to  their  facrifices  God  lets  them  know,  that 
while  they  had  no  regard  to  their  morals,  but  chofe 
their  own  ways,  and  their  fouls  delighted  in  their  abo- 
minations, while  they  prefented  them  in  a  formal 
manner,  without  the  fire  of  divine  love,  their  facri- 
fices were  fo  far  from  procuring  his  acceptance,  that 
they  were  odious  to  him.  He  abhors  their  moft  ex- 
penfive  offerings  as  abomxinable  and  profane.  He  that 

killeth 


Serm.  6.         the  Obje5ls  of  Divine  Favout.  20 1 

killeth  an  ox  for  facrifice  is  as  far  from  being  accepted, 
as  if  he  unjuft:Iy^£"K;  a  man  ;  he  that  facrificeth  a  lamh^ 
as  if  he  cut  off  a  dag's  neck^  &c.  Ifaiah  Ixvi.  3. 

To  remove  this  fuperftitious  confidence  in  the  tem- 
ple, the  Lord  informs  them  that  he  had  no  need  of  it ; 
that,  large  and  magnificent  as  it  was,  it  was  not  fit  to 
contain  him  ;  and  that,  in  confecrating  it  to  him,  they 
fhould  not  proudly  think  that  they  had  given  him  any 
thing  to  which  he  had  no  prior  right.  "  Thus  faith 
the  Lord,  the  heaven  is  my  throne,  where  I  reign 
confpicuous  in  the  vifible  majefty  and  grandeur  of  a 
God ',  and  though  the  earth  is  not  adorned  with  fuch 
illuftrious  difplays  of  my  immediate  prefcnce,  though, 
it  does  not  /hine  in  all  the  glory  of  my  royal  palace  on 
high,  yet  it  is  a  little  province  in  my  immenfe  em- 
pire, and  fubjed  to  my  authority,  it  is  my  footftool. 
If,  then,  heaven  is  my  throne,  and  earth  is  my  foot- 
ftool ',  if  the  whole  creation  is  my  kingdom.,  where 
is  the  houfe  that  ye  build  unto  me  ?  where  is  your 
temple  which  appears  fo  ftately  in  your  eyes  ?  it  is 
vaniftied,  it  is  funk  into  nothing.  Is  it  able  to  contain 
that  infinite  Being  to  whom  the  whole  earth  is  but  a 
humble  footftool,  and  the  vaft  heaven  but  a  throne  ? 
Can  you  vainly  imagine  that  my  prefence  can  be  con- 
fined to  you  in  the  narrow  bounds  of  a  temple,  when 
the  heaven  and  the  heaven  of  heavens  cannot  contain 
me  ?  Where  is  the  place  of  my  reft  .''  can  you  pro- 
vide a  place  for  my  repofe,  as  though  I  were  weary  ? 
or  can  my  prefence  be  reftrained  to  one  place,  incapa- 
ble of  ading  beyond  the  prefcribed  limits  ?  No  •,  in- 
finite fpace  only  can  equal  my  being  and  perfedlions  ; 
infinite  fpace  only  is  a  fuf^cient  fphere  for  my  opera- 
tions. 

"  Can  you  imagine  you  can  bribe  my  favour,  and 
give  me  fomething  I  had  no  right  to  before,  by  all 
the  ftately  building  you  can  rear  to  my  name  ?  Is  not 
univerfal  nature  mine  .''  For  all  thefe  things  hath  mine 
hand  made  out  of  nothing,  and  all  thefe  things  have 
been,  or  ftill  fubfift  by  the  fupport  of  my  all-preferv- 

D  d  ing 


202.  Poor  and  contrite  Spirits  Serm.  6.  . 

ing  hand,  ?d\d  what  right  can  be  more  valid  and  ina- 
lienable than  that  founded  upon  creation  ?  Your  filver 
and  gold  are  mine,  and  mine  the  cattle  upon  a  thou- 
fand  hills ;  and  therefore  of  mine  own  do  you  give 
me,  faith  the  Lord." 

Thefe  are  fuch  majeftic  firains  of  language  as  are 
worthy  a  God.  Thus  it  becomes  him  to  advance 
himfelf  above  the  v/hole  creation,  and  to  affert  his 
abfolute  property  in  and  independency  upon  the  uni- 
verfe. 

Had  he  only  turned  to  us  the  bright  fide  of  his 
throne,  that  dazzles  us  with  infufferable  fplendor  -, 
had  he  only  difplayed  his  Majefty  unallayed  with  grace 
and  condefcenfion  in  fuch  language  as  this,  it  w^ould 
have  overwhelmed  us,  and  caft  us  into  the  moft  abjeft 
defpondency,  as  the  outcafts  of  his  providence  beneath 
his  notice.  We  might  fear  he  would  overlook  us  with 
majeftic  difdain,  or  carelefs  negleft,  like  the  little 
things  that  are  called  great  by  mortals,  or  as  the  bufy 
emmets  of  our  fpecies  are  apt  to  do.  In  the  hurry 
of  bufinefs  they  are  liable  to  negleft,  and  in  the  power 
of  pride  and  grandeur  to  overlook  or  difdain  their  de- 
pendents. We  fhould  be  ready  in  hopelefs  anxiety  to 
fay,  "  Is  all  this  earth  which  to  us  appears  fo  vaft, 
and  which  is  parcelled  into  a  thoufand  mighty  king- 
doms, as  we  call  them,  is  it  all  but  the  humble  foot- 
flool  of  God  .^  hardly  worthy  to  bear  his  feet  ?  What 
then  am  I }  an  atom  of  an  atom-world,  a  trifling  in- 
dividual of  a  trifling  race.  Can  I  exped  he  will  take 
any  notice  of  fuch  an  infignificant  thing  as  I  ?  The 
vafl;  affairs  of  heaven  and  earth  lie  upon  his  hand, 
and  he  is  employed  in  the  concerns  of  the  wide  uni- 
verfe,  and  can  he  find  leifure  to  concern  himfelf  with 
me,  and  my  little  interefl:s  }  Will  a  king,  deliberat- 
ing upon  the  concerns  of  nations,  inter  eft  himfelf  in 
favour  of  the  worm  that  crawls  at  his  footftool  ^  If 
the  magnificent  temple  of  Solomon  was  unworthy  of 
the  divine  inhabitant,  will  he  admit  me  into  his  pre- 
fence,  and  give  me  audience,''  how  can  I  exped  it? 

It 


Serm.  6.         the  Ohje5fs  of  Divine  Favour.  205 

It  feems  daring  and  prefumptuous  to  hope  for  fuch 
condercenfion.  And  ihall  I  then  defpair  of  the  gra- 
cious regard  of  my  Maker  ? 

No,  defponding  creature !  mean  and  unworthy  as 
thou  art,  hear  the  voice  of  divine  condefccnfion,  as 
well  as  of  Majefty  ;  'To  this  man  will  I  look^  even  to 
him  that  is  ■poor^  and  of  a  contrite  fpirit^  and  that  trem- 
hleth  at  my  word.  Though  God  dwelleth  not  in  tern- 
pies  made  with  hands,  though  he  pours  contempt  upon 
princes,  and  {corns  them  in  all  their  haughty  glory  and 
afFefted  majefty,  yet  there  are  perfons  whom  his  gra- 
cious eye  will  regard.  The  high  and  lofty  One  that 
inhabiteth  eternity,  that  dwelleth  in  the  high  and  holy 
place,  he  will  look  down  through  all  the  fhining  ranks 
of  angels  upon — whom  ?  Not  on  the  proud,  the 
haughty  and  prefumptuous,  but  upon  him  that  is pcor^ 
and  of  a  contrite  fpirit,  and  tremble th  at  his  word.  To 
this  man  will  he  look  from  the  throne  of  his  majefty, 
however  low,  however  mean  he  may  be.  This  man 
is  an  objeft  that  can,  as  it  were,  attrai^l  his  eyes  from 
all  the  glories  of  the  heavenly  world,  fo  as  to  regard 
a  humble  felf-abafing  worm.  This  man  can  never  be 
ioft  or  overlooked  among  the  multitude  of  creatures, 
but  the  eyes  of  the  Lord  will  difcover  him  in  the 
greateft  crowd,  his  eyes  will  gracioufly  fix  upon  this 
man,  this  particular  man,  though  there  were  but  one 
fuch  in  the  compafs  of  the  creation,  or  though  he 
were  baniftied  into  the  remoteft  corner  of  the  univerfe, 
like  a  diamond  in  a  heap  of  rubbifti,  or  at  the  bottom 
of  the  ocean. 

Do  you  hear  this,  you  that  are  poor  and  contrite  in 
fpirit,  and  that  tremble  at  his  word  ?  ye  that,  above 
all  others,  are  moft  apt  to  fear  you  ftiall  be  difregard- 
ed  by  him,  becaufe  you,  of  all  others,  are  moft  deep- 
ly fenfible  hov/  unworthy  you  are  of  his  gracious  no- 
tice :  God,  the  great,  the  glorious,  the  terrible  God; 
looks  down  upon  you  with  eyes  of  love,  -and  by  fo 
much  the  more  afFe6lionately,  by  how  much  the  lov/er 
you  are  in  your  own  efteem.     Does  not  your  heart 

fpring 


204  Poor  and  contrite  Spirits  Serm.  6. 

fpriiig  within  you  at  the  found  ?  Are  you  not  loft  in 
pleafing  wonder  and  gratitude,  and  crying  out,  "  Can 
it  be  ?  can  it  be  ?  is  it  indeed  poflible  ?  is  it  true  ?'* 
Yes,  you  have  his  own  word  for  it,  and  do  not  think 
3t  too  good  news  to  be  true,  but  beHeve,  and  rejoice, 
and  give  glory  to  his  name ;  and  fear  not  what  men 
or  devils  can  do  unto  you. 

This,  my  brethren,  is  a  matter  of  univerfal  con- 
cern. It  is  the  intereft  of  each  of  us  to  know  whether 
we  are  thus  gracioufly  regarded  by  that  God  on  whom 
our  very  being  and  all  our  happinefs  entirely  depend. 
And  how  ftiall  we  know  this  ?  In  no  other  way  than 
by  difcovering  whether  we  have  the  charafters  of  that 
happy  man  to  whom  he  condefcends  to  look,  Thefe 
are  not  pompous  and  high  charadters,  they  are  not 
formed  by  earthly  riches,  learning,  glory,  and  power  : 
But  to  this  man  will  I  look^  faith  the  Lord,  even  to  him 
that  is  poor^  and  of  a  contrite  fpirit^  and  that  trembleth 
at  my  word.  Let  us  inquire  into  the  import  of  each 
of  the  charafters. 

I.  It  is  the  poor  man  to  whom  the  Majefty  of  hea- 
ven condefcends  to  look. 

This  does  not  principally  refer  to  thofe  that  are  poor 
in  this  world ;  for,  though  it  be  very  common  that 
"  the  poor  of  this  world  are  chofen  to  be  rich  in  faith, 
and  heirs  of  the  kingdom,"  James  ii.  5.  yet  this  is  not 
an  univerfal  rule  ^  for  many,  alas !  that  are  poor  in 
this  world  are  not  rich  towards  God,  nor  rich  in  good 
works,  and  therefore  ihall  famifh  through  eternity  in 
remedilefs  want  and  wretchednefs.  But  the  poor  here 
iignifies  fuch  as  Chrift  charaderizes  more  fully  by  the 
poor  infpirit.  Matt.  v.  3.  And  this  charader  implies 
the  following  ingredients : 

(i.)  The  poor  man  to  whom  Jehovah  looks  is 
deeply  fenfible  of  his  own  infufficiency,  and  that  no- 
thing but  theenjoyment  of  God  can  make  him  happy. 

The  poor  man  feels  that  he  is  not  formed  felf-fuffi- 
cient,  but  a  dependent  upon  God.  He  is  fenfible  of  the 
wegknefs  and  poverty  of  his  nature,  gnd  that  he  was 

not 


Serm.  6.         the  Ohje£fs  of  Divine  Favour.  205 

not  endowed  with  a  fufficlent  ftock  of  riches  in  his 
creation  to  fupport  him  through  the  endlefs  duration 
for  which  he  is  formed,  or  even  for  a  fingle  day.  The 
feeble  vine  does  not  more  clofely  adhere  to  the  elm 
than  he  to  his  God.  He  is  not  more  fenfible  of  the 
infufficiency  of  his  body  to  fubfift  without  air,  or  the 
productions  of  the  earth,  than  of  that  of  his  foul 
without  his  God,  and  the  enjoyment  of  his  love.  In 
fhort,  he  is  reduced  into  his  proper  place  in  the  fyftem 
of  the  univerfe,  low  and  mean  in  comparifon  with 
fuperior  beings  of  the  angelic  order,  and  efpecially  in 
comparifon  with  the  great  Parent  and  fupport  of  na- 
ture. He  feels  himfelf  to  be,  what  he  really  is,  a 
poor  irnpotent  dependent  creature,  that  can  neither 
live,  nor  move,  nor  exift  without  God.  He  is  fenfi- 
ble that  his  fufficiency  is  of  God,  2  Cor.  iii.  5.  "  and 
that  all  the  fprings  of  his  happinefs  are  in  him." 

This  fenfe  of  his  dependence  upon  God  is  attended 
with  a  fenfe  of  the  inability  of  all  earthly  enjoyments 
to  make  him  happy,  and  fill  the  vaft  capacities  of  his 
foul,  which  were  formed  for  the  enjoyment  of  an  in- 
finite good.  He  has  a  relifh  for  the  bleffmgs  of  this 
life,  but  it  is  attended  with  a  fenfe  of  their  infuffici- 
ency, and  does  not  exclude  a  ftonger  relifh  for  the  fu- 
perior pleafures  of  religion.  He  is  not  a  precife  her- 
mit, or  a  four  afcetic,  on  the  one  hand ;  and,  on  the 
other,  he  is  not  a  lover  of  pleafure  more  than  a  lover  of 
God. 

If  he  enjoys  no  great  fhare  of  the  comforts  of  this 
life,  he  does  not  labour,  nor  fo  much  as  wifii  for  them 
as  his  fupreme  happinefs :  he  is  well  afiured  they  can 
never  anfwer  this  end  in  their  greateft  affluence.  It  is 
for  God,  it  is  for  the  living  God,  that  his  foul  moft 
eagerly  thirfl:s.  In  the  greateft  extremity  he  is  fenfi- 
ble that  the  enjoyment  of  his  love  is  more  necefiary  to 
his  felicity  than  the  pofTeiTion  of  earthly  bleffmgs  •,  nay, 
he  is  fenfible,  that  if  he  is  miferable  in  the  abfence  of 
thefe,  the  principal  caufe  is  the  abfence  of  his  God. 
O  !  if  he  were  bleft  with.the  perfed  enjoyment  of  God^ 

he 


2o6  Poor  and  contrite  Spirits  Serm.  6.  - 

he  could  fay  with  Habakkuk,  'Though  the  fig-tree 
frJGuld  not  blojjhm.,  and  there  Jhould  be  no  fruit  in  the 
vine ;  though  the  labour  of  the  olive  P^ouldfall^  and  the 
fields  yield  no  meat ;  though  the  flock  fhould  be  cut  off  from 
the  fold^  and  there  be  no  herd  in  the  ft  all;  though  uni- 
verfal  famine  fhould  ftrip  me  of  all  my  earthly  blef- 
fings,  yet  I  will  rejoice  in  the  Lordy  as  my  complete 
happinefs  •,  I  will  joy  in  the  God  of  my  falvation.  Hab. 
iii.  17,  18. 

If  he  enjoys  an  affluence  of  earthly  bleflings.  He 
ftill  retains  a  fenfe  of  his  need  of  the  enjoyment  of 
God.  To  be  difcontent  and  dilTatisiied  is  the  com- 
mon fate  of  the  rich  as  well  as  the  poor  \  they  are 
ftill  craving,  craving  an  unknown  fomething  to  com- 
plete their  blifs.  Tlie  foul,  being  formed  for  the  frui- 
tion of  the  Supreme  Good,  fecrctly  languifhes  and 
pines  away  in  the  midft  of  other  enjoyments,  without 
knowing  its  cure,  it  is  the  enjoyment  of  God  only 
that  can  fatisfy  its  unbounded  defires  •,  but,  alas !  it 
has  no  relifh  for  him,  no  thirft  after  him  •,  it  is  ftill 
crying,  "  More,  more  of  the  delights  of  the  world  •," 
like  a  man  i.n  a  burning  fever,  that  calls  for  cold  wa- 
ter, that  will  but  inflame  his  difeafe,  and  occafion  a 
more  painful  return  of  thirft.  But  the  poor  in  fpirit 
know  where  their  cure  lies.  They  do  not  aflc  with 
uncertainty,  IVho  will  fijew  us  any  fort  of  good?  but 
their  petitions  centre  in  this,  as  the  grand  conftituent 
of  their  happinefs,  Lord^  lift  thou  up  the  light  of  thy 
countenance  upon  us\  and  this  puts  more  gladnefs  into 
their  hearts  than  the  abundance  of  corn  and  wine.  Pfalm 
iv.  6,  7.  This  v/as  the  language  of  the  Pfalmift, 
Inhere  is  none  upon  earth  that  I  defire  befides  thee.  My 
fiefh  and  my  heart  faileth  \,  but  thou  art  the  ftrength  of 
my  hearty  and  my  portion  for  ever.  Pfalm  ixxiii.  25,  26. 
And  as  this  difpofition  extends  to  all  earthly  things, 
fo  it  does  to  all  created  enjoyments  whatfoevcr,  even 
to  thofe  of  the  heavenly  world  ;  the  poor  man  is  fen- 
fible  that  he  could  not  be  happy  even  there  without  the 
enjoyment  of  his  God.     Plis  language  is,  whom  have 

I  in 


Serm.  6.         the  Obje^s  of  Divine  Fa'v our.  207 

lin  heaven  but  thee?  It  Is  beholding  thy  face  in  righ- 
teoufnefs.,  and  awaking  in  thy  Ukenefs^  that  alone  can 
fatisfy  me.  Pfalm  xvii.  15. 

(2.)  This  fpiritiiiil  poverty  implies  deep  humility 
and  felf-abafem-ent.  ' 

The  poor  man  on  whom  the  God  of  heaven  con- 
defcends  to  look,  is  mean  in  his  own  appreheniions  ^ 
he  accounts  himfelf  not  a  being  of  mighty  importance. 
He  has  no  high  efteem  of  his  own  good  qualities,  but 
is  httle  in  his  own  eyes.  He  is  not  apt  to  give  him- 
felf  the  preference  to  others,  but  is  ready  to  give  way 
to  them  as  his  fuperiors.  He  has  a  generous  fagacity 
to  behold  their  good  qualities,  and  a  commendable 
blindnefs  towards  their  impcrfedions ;  but  he  is  not 
quick  to  difcern  his  own  excellencies,  nor  fparing  to  his 
own  frailties. 

In-lead  of  being  dazzled  with  the  fplendor  of  his 
own  endowments  or  acqulfitions,  he  is  apt  to  overlook 
them  with  a  noble  negleti,  and  is  fenfibleof  the  weak- 
nefs  and  defeds  of  his  nature. 

And  as  to  his  gracious  qualities,  they  appear  fmalJ, 
exceeding  fmall  to  him  '  when  he  confiders  how  much 
they  fall  fhort  of  what  they  fliould  be,  they  as  it  were 
vanifh  and  fhrink  into  nothing.  How  cold  does  his 
love  appear  to  him  in  Its  greateft  fervour  !  How  fee- 
ble his  faith  in  its  greateft  confidence!  Hov/  fuperfi- 
cial  his  repentance  in  its  greateft  depth  !  How  proud 
his  loweft  humility  !  And  as  for  the  good  acftions  hs 
has  performed,  alas  !  how  few,  how  poorly  done,  how 
fhort  of  his  duty  do  they  appear !  After  he  has  done 
all,  he  counts  himfelf  an  unprofitable  fervant.  After 
he  has  done  all,  he  is  more  apt  to  adopt  the  language 
of  the  publican  than  the  pharlfee,  God  be  merciful  to 
me  ajinner.  In  his  higheft  attainments  he  is  not  apt 
to  admire  himfelf;  fo  far  is  he  from  it,  that  it  is  much 
more  natural  to  him  to  fall  into  the  opppfite  extreme, 
and  to  account  himfelf  the  leaft,  yea,  lefs  than  theleaft 
of  all  other  faints  upon  the  face  of  the  earth  :  and  if 
he  contends  for  any  preference,  it  is  for  the  lov;eft 

place 


2o8  Poor  and  cdntrite  Spirits  Serili.  6*  - 

place  in  the  lift  of  chriftians.  This  difpofition  was 
remarkably  exemplified  in  Saint  Paul,  who  probably- 
had  made  greater  advancements  in  holinefs  than  any 
faint  that  was  ever  received  to  heaven  from  this  guilty 
world. 

He  that  is  poor  in  fpirit  has  alfo  a  humbling  fenfe 
of  his  own  finfulnefs.  His  memory  is  quick  to  re- 
colledt  his  paft  fins,  and  he  is  very  fharp-fighted  to 
difcover  the  remaining  corruptions  of  his  heart,  and 
the  imperfedions  of  his  beft  duties.  He  is  not  inge- 
nious to  excufe  them,  but  views  them  impartially  in 
all  their  deformity  and  aggravations.  He  fincerely 
doubts  whether  there  be  a  faint  upon  earth  fo  exceed- 
ing corrupt  j  and,  though  he  may  be  convinced  that 
the  Lord  has  begun  a  work  of  grace  in  him,  and  con- 
fequently,  that  he  is  in  a  better  ftate  than  fuch  as  are 
under  the  prevailing  dominion  of  fin,  yet  he  really 
queftions  whether  there  be  fuch  a  depraved  creature 
in  the  world  as  he  fees  he  has  been.  He  is  apt  to 
count  himfelf  the  chief  of  finneis,  and  more  indebt- 
ed to  free  grace  than  any  of  the  fons  of  men.  He  is 
intimately  acquainted  with  himfelf;  but  he  fees  only 
the  out-fide  of  others,  and  hence  he  concludes  him- 
felf fo  much  worfe  than  others  ;  hence  he  loathes  him- 
felf in  his  own  fight  for  all  his  abominations.  Ezek. 
xxxvi.  31.  Self-abafement  is  pleafing  to  him;  his 
humility  is  not  forced  ;  he  does  not  think  it  a  great 
thing  for  him  to  fink  thus  low.  He  plainly  fees  him- 
felf to  be  a  mean,  finful,  exceeding  finful  creature, 
and  therefore  is  fure  that  it  is  no  condefcenfion,  but 
the  moft  reafonable  thing  in  the  world  for  him  to  think 
meanly  of  himfelf,  and  to  humble  and  abafe  himfelf. 
It  is  unnatural  for  one  that  efteems. himfelf  a  being  of 
great  importance  to'ftoop  -,  but  it  is  eafy,  and  appears 
no  felf-denial  for  a  poor  mean  creature  to  do  fo,  who 
looks  upon  himfelf,  and  feels  himfelf,  to  be  fuch. 

Finally,  the  poor  man  is  deeply  fenfible  of  his  own 
unworthinefs.  He  fees  that  in  himfelf  he  deferves 
no  favour  from  God  for  all  the  good  he  has  ever  done, 

but 


Serm.  6.         the  Ohje6is  of  Divine  Favour.  209 

but  that  he  may  after  all  juftly  rejed  him.  He  makes 
no  proud  boafts  of  his  good  heart,  or  good  life,  but 
falls  in  the  duft  before  God,  and  cafts  all  his  dependence 
upon  his  free  grace: — which  leads  me  to  obferve, 

('3.)  That  he  who  is  poor  in  fpirit  is  fenfibleof  his 
need  of  the  influences  of  divine  grace  to  fandify  him, 
and  enrich  him  with  the  graces  of  the  fpirit. 

He  is  fenfible  of  the  want  of  holinefs  •,  this  necef- 
farily  flows  from  his  fenfe  of  his  corruption,  and  the 
imperfedion  of  all  his  graces.  Holinefs  is  the  one 
thing  needful  with  him,  which  he  defires  and  longs 
for  above  all  others  ;  and  he  is  deeply  fenfible  that  he 
cannot  work  it  in  his  own  heart  by  his  own  ftrength : 
he  feels  that  without  Chrift  he  can  do  nothing,  and 
that  it  is  God  who  muft  work  in  him  both  to  will  and 
to  do.  Hence,  like  a  poor  man  that  cannot  fubfift  upon 
his  flock,  he  depends  entirely  upon  the  grace  of  God 
to  work  all  his  works  in  him,  and  to  enable  him  to 
work  out  his  falvation  with  fear  and  trembling. 

(4.)  He  is  deeply  fenflble  of  the  abfolute  nccefllty 
of  the  righteoufnefs  of  Chrifl:  for  his  jufliification. 

He  does  not  think  himfelf  rich  in  good  works  to 
bribe  his  judge,  and  procure  acquittance,  but,  like  a 
poor  criminal  that,  having  nothing  to  purchafe  a  par- 
don, nothing  to  plead  in  his  own  defence,  cafts  him- 
felf upon  the  mercy  of  the  court,  he  places  his  whole 
dependence  upon  the  free  grace  of  God  through  Jefus 
Chrifl:.  He  pleads  his  righteoufnefs  only,  and  trufts 
in  it  alone.  The  rich  fcorn  to  be  obliged ;  but  the 
poor,  that  cannot  fubful  of  themfelves,  will  cheerfully 
receive.  So  the  felf-righteous  will  not  fubmit  to  the 
righteoufnefs  of  God,  but  the  poor  in  fpirit  will  cheer- 
fully receive  it. 

(5.)  And  lafl:ly,  the  man  that  is  poor  in  fpirit  is  an 
importunate  beggar  at  the  throne  of  grace. 

He  lives  upon  charity  -,  he  lives  upon  the  bounties 
of  heaven  ;  and,  as  thefe  are  not  to  be  obtained  with- 
out begging,  he  is  frequently  lifting  up  his  cries  to 
the  P'ather  of  all  his  mercies  for  them.     He  attends 

E  e  upon 


2io  Poor  and  contrite  Spiriis  Serm.  6, 

upon  the  ordinances  of  God,  as  Bartimeus  by  the  way 
fide,  to  afk  the  charity  of  paffengers.  Prayer  is  the 
natural  language  of  fpiritual  poverty,  T^he  poor^  faith 
Solomon,  itfeth  intreaties :  Prov.  xviii.  23.  whereas 
they  that  are  rich  in  their  own  conceit  can  live  without 
prayer,  or  content  themfelves  with  the  carelefs  formal 
performance  of  it. 

This  is  the  habitual  charadler  of  that  poor  man  to 
whom  the  Majefty  of  heaven  vouchfafes  the  looks  of 
his  love.  At  times  indeed  he  has  but  little  fenfe  of 
thefe  things  ;  but  then  he  is  uncafy,  and  he  labours 
to  re-obtain  it,  and  fometimes  is  aftually  blefled  with 
it. 

And  is  there  no  fuch  poor  man  or  woman  in  this 
aHembly .?  I  hope  there  is.  "Where  are  ye  poor  crea- 
tures ^  ftand  forth,  and  receive  the  blefling  of  your 
Redeemer,  Bk£'ed  are  the  poor  infpirit,  &c.  He  who 
has  his  throne  in  the  height  of  heaven,  and  to  whom 
this  vaft  earth  is  but  a  footftool,  looks  upon  you  with 
eyes  of  love.  This  fpiritual  poverty  is  greater  riches 
than  the  treafures  of  the  univerfe.  Be  not  afhamed 
therefore  to  own  yourfelves  poor  men,  if  fuch  you  are. 
May  God  thus  impoverifh  us  all  !  may  he  ftrip  us  of 
all  our  imaginary  grandeur  and  riches,  and  reduce  us 
to  poor  beggars  at  his  door ! 

But  it  is  time  to  confider  the  other  charadler  of  the 
happy  man  upon  whom  the  Lord  of  heaven  will  gra- 
cioufly  look  ;  and  that  is, 

II.  Contrition  of  fpirit.  To  this  man  will  I  look, 
that  is  of  a  contrite  fpirit. 

The  word  contrite  fignifies  one  that  is  beaten  or 
bruifed  with  hard  blows,  or  an  heavy  burden.  And 
it  belongs  to  the  mourning  penitent  whofe  heart  is 
broken  and  wounded  for  fin.  Sin  is  an  intolerable 
burden  that  crufhes  and  bruifes  him,  and  he  feels  him- 
felf  pained  and  fore  under  it.  His  ftony  heart,  which 
could  not  be  imprefled,  but  rather  repelled  the  blow, 
is  taken  away  ;  and  now  he  has  an  heart  of  flefh,  eafily 
bruifed  and  wounded.     His  heart  is  not  always  hard 

and 


Serm.  6.         the  Ohjedls  of  Divine  Favour.  211 

and  fenfelefs,  light  and  trifling  •,  but  it  has  tender  fen - 
fations ;  he  is  eafily  fufceptive  of  forrow  for  fin,  is 
humbled  under  a  fenfe  of  his  imperfedlions,  and  is 
really  pained  and  diflreffed  becaufe  he  can  ferve  his 
God  no  better,  but  daily  fins  againft  him.  This  cha- 
radler  may  alfo  agree  to  the  poor  anxious  foul  that  is 
broken  with  cruel  fears  of  its  ftate.  The  ftout-heart- 
ed  can  venture  their  eternal  all  upon  uncertainty,  and 
indulge  pleafing  hopes  without  anxioufiy  examining 
their  foundation  ;  but  he  that  is  of  a  contrite  fpirit  is 
tenderly  fenfible  of  the  importance  of  the  matter,  and 
cannot  be  eafy  without  fome  good  evidence  of  fafetv. 
Such  fiiocking  fuppofitions  as  thefe  frequently  ftartic 
him,  and  pierce  his  very  heart :  "  What  if  I  fliould 
be  deceived  at  laft  ?  What  if  after  all  I  fhould  be 
baniihed  from  that  God  in  whom  lies  all  my  happi- 
nefs,"  ^c.  Thefe  are  fuppofitions  full  of  infupporta- 
ble  terror,  when  they  appear  but  barely  pofiible ;  and 
much  more  when  there  feems  to  be  reafon  for  them. 
Such  an  habitual  pious  jealoufy  as  this,  is  agoodfymp- 
tom ;  and  to  your  pleafing  furprize,  ye  doubtful  chrif- 
tians,  I  may  tell  you  that  that  Majefty,  who  you  are 
afraid  difregards  you,  looks  down  upon  you  with  pity. 
Therefore  lift  up  your  eyes  to  him  in  wonder  and  joy- 
ful confidence.  You  are  not  fuch  negleded  things  as 
you  think.  The  Majefty  of  heaven  thinks  it  beneath 
him  to  look  down  through  all  the  glorious  orders  of 
angels,  and  through  interpofing  worlds,  down,  down 
even  upon  you  in  the  depth  of  your  felf-abhorrcnce. 
Let  us, 

III.  Confider  the  remaining  charad:er  of  the  happy 
man  to  whom  the  Lord  will  look :  Him  that  tremhkth 
at  my  word. 

This  charader  implies  a  tender  fenfe  of  the  great 
things  of  the  word,  and  an  heart  eafily  imprefied  with 
them  as  the  moft  important  realities.  This  was  re- 
markably exemplified  in  tender-hearted  Jofiah.  2 
Chron.  xxiv.  19,  20,  27.  To  one  that  trembles  at 
the  divine  word,  the  threatenings  of  it  do  not  appear 

vain 


ti2  Poor  and  contrite  Spirits  Serm.  6^ 

vain  terrors,  nor  great  {welling  words  of  vanity,  but 
the  moft  tremendous  realities.  Such  an  one  cannot 
bear  up  under  them,  but  would  tremble,  and  fall, 
and  die  away,  if  not  relieved  by  fome  happy  promife 
of  deliverance.  He  that  tembles  at  the  word  of  God 
is  not  a  ftupid  hearer  or  reader  of  it.  It  reaches  and 
pierces  his  heart  as  a  fharp  two-edged  fword ;  it  cawies 
power  along  with  it,  and  he  feels  that  it  is  the  word 
of  God,  and  not  of  men,  even  when  it  is  fpoken  by 
feeble  mortals.  Thus  he  not  only  trembles  at  the 
terror,  but  at  the  authority  of  the  word  \ — which 
leads  me  to  obferve  farther,  that  he  trembles  with 
filial  veneration  of  the  majefty  of  God  fpeaking  in  his 
word.  He  confiders  it  as  his  voice  who  fpake  all 
things  into  being,  and  whofe  glory  is  fuch,  that  a  deep 
folemnity  muft  feize  thofe  that  are  admitted  to  hear 
him  fpeak. 

How  oppofite  is  this  to  the  temper  of  multitudes 
who  regard  the  word  of  God  no  more  than  (with  hor- 
ror I  exprefs  it)  the  word  of  a  child  or  a  fool.  They 
will  have  their  own  way,  let  him  fay  what  he  will. 
They  perfift  in  fin,  in  defiance  of  his  threatenings. 
They  fit  as  carelefs  and  ftupid  under  his  word,  as 
though  it  were  fome  old,  dull,  trifling  ftory.  It  fel- 
dom  makes  any  imprefirons  upon  their  ftony  hearts. 
Thefe  are  the  brave,  undaunted  men  of  the  world, 
who  harden  themfelves  againft  the  fear  of  futurity. 
But,  unhappy  creatures  !  the  God  of  heaven  difdains 
to  give  them  a  gracious  look,  while  he  fixes  his  eyes 
upon  the  man  that  "  is  contrite,  and  that  trembles  at 
his  word." 

And  where  is  that  happy  man  ?  Where  in  this 
afiembly,  where  is  the  contrite  fpirit  ?  Where  the 
man  that  trembleth  at  the  word  ?  You  are  all  ready 
to  catch  at  the  chara6ler,  but  be  not  prefumptuous  on 
the  one  hand,  nor  exceffively  timorous  on  the  other. 
Inquire  whether  this  be  your  prevailing  charadler.  If 
fo,  then  claim  it,  and  rejoice  in  it,  though  you  have 
it  not  in  perfedion.    But  if  you  have  it  not  prevailing- 


Serm.  6.         the  Objects  of  Divine  Favour,  213 

ly,  do  not  feize  it  as  your  own.  Though  you  have 
been  at  times  diftrefTed  with  a  fenfe  of  fin  and  danger, 
and  the  word  ftrikes  a  terror  to  your  hearts,  yet,  un- 
lefs  you  are  habitually  of  a  tender  and  contrite  fpirit, 
you  are  not  to  claim  the  character. 

But  let  fuch  of  you  as  are  poor  and  contrite  in 
fpirit,  and  that  tremble  at  the  word  of  the  Lord,  enter 
deeply  into  the  meaning  of  this  expreffion,  that  the 
Lord  looks  to  you.  He  does  not  look  on  you  as  a 
carelefs  fpedator,  not  concerning  himfelf  with  you, 
or  caring  what  will  become  of  you,  but  he  looks  upon 
you  as  a  father,  a  friend,  a  benefactor :  his  looks  are 
efficacious  for  your  good. 

He  looks  upon  you  with  acceptance.  He  is  pleafed 
with  the  fight.  He  loves  to  fee  you  labouring  towards 
him.  He  looks  upon  you  as  the  objedls  of  his  ever- 
lafliing  love,  and  purchafed  by  the  blood  of  his  Son, 
and  he  is  well  pleafed  with  you  for  his  righteoufnefs 
fake.  Hence  his  looking  upon  him  that  is  poor,  i^c. 
is  oppofed  to  his  hating  the  wicked  and  their  facrifices, 
ver.  3.  And  is  he  whom  you  have  fo  grievoufly  of- 
fended, he  whofe  wrath  you  fear  above  all  other  things, 
is  he  indeed  reconciled  to  you,  and  does  he  delight  in 
you  ?  what  caufe  of  joy,  and  praife,  and  wonder  is 
here } 

Again,  he  looks  to  you  fo  as  to  take  particular  no- 
tice of  you.  He  fees  all  the  workings  of  your  hearts 
towards  him.  He  fees  and  pities  you  in  your  honeft, 
though  feeble  confli(5ls  with  in-dwelling  fin.  He  ob- 
ferves  all  your  faithful  though  weak  endeavours  to 
ferve  him.  His  eyes  pierce  your  very  hearts,  and 
the  leafl:  motion  there  cannot  efcape  his  notice.  This 
indeed  might  make  you  tremble,  if  he  looked  upon 
you  with  the  eyes  of  a  judge,  for  O  how  many  abo- 
minations muft  he  fee  in  you  !  But  be  of  good  cheer, 
he  looks  upon  you  with  the  eyes  of  a  friend,  and  with 
that  love  which  covers  a  multitude  of  fins.  He  looks 
upon  you  with  the  eyes  of  compaffion  in  all  your  cala- 
mities.    He  looks  upon  you  to  fee  that  you  be  not 

overborne 


214  Poor  and  contrite  spirits  Sei-m.  6. 

overborne  and  crufhed.  David,  who  pafled  through 
as  many  hardfliips  and  afflidtions  as  any  of  you,  could 
fay  from  happy  experience,  the  eyes  of  the  Lord  are 
upon  the  righteous,  and  his  ears  are  open  to  their  cry, 
Pfal.  xxxiv.  15. 

Finally,  he  looks  to  you  fo  as  to  look  after  you,  as 
we  do  after  the  fick  and  weak.  He  looks  to  you 
fo  as  to  provide  for  you  ;  and  he  will  give  you  grace 
and  glory,  and  no  good  thing  will  be  held  from  you, 
Pfal.  Ixxxiv.  II. 

And  are  you  not  fafe  and  happy  under  the  infpec- 
tion  of  a  father  and  a  friend }  Let  a  little  humble 
courage  then  animate  you  amid  your  many  dejedlions, 
and  confide  in  that  care  of  which  you  feel  yourfelf  to 
be  fo  unworthy. 

Here  it  may  not  be  amifs  to  obferve,  v/hat  muft 
give  you  no  fmall  pleafure,  that  thofe  very  perfons 
v/ho  according  to  the  eftimate  of  men  are  the  moft 
likely  to  be  overlooked,  are  thofe  whom  God  graci- 
oufly  regards.  The  perfons  themfelves  are  apt  to  cry, 
"  Happy  I,  could  I  believe  that  the  God  of  heaven 
thus  gracioufly  regards  me ;  but,  alas  !  I  feel  myfelf 
a  poor  unworthy  creature  ;  I  am  a  trembling  broken- 
hearted thing,  beneath  the  notice  of  fo  great  a  Ma- 
jefty."  And  art  thou  fo  indeed  .^  then  I  may  convert 
thy  objedion  into  an  encouragement.  Thou  art  the 
very  perfon  upon  v/hom  God  looks.  His  eyes  are 
running  to  and  fro  through  the  earth  in  queft  of  fuch 
as  thou  art  •,  and  he  will  find  thee  out  among  the  Innu- 
merable multitudes  of  mankind.  Wert  thou  fur- 
rounded  v/ith  crov/ds  of  kings  and  nobles,  his  eyes 
would  pafs  by  them  all  to  fix  upon  thee.  What  a  glo- 
rious artifice,  if  I  may  fo  fpeak,  is  this  to  catch  at  and 
convert  the  perfon's  difcouragement  as  a  ground  of 
courage  !  to  make  that  the  charafler  of  the  favourites 
of  heaven,  which  they  themfelves  look  upon  as  marks 
of  his  negled  of  them  !  "  Alas  !"  fays  the  poor  man, 
*'  if  I  was  the  objed  of  divine  notice,  he  would  not 
fuffer  me  to  continue  thus  poor  and  broken-hearted." 

But 


Serm.  6.         the  Obje5fs  of  Divine  Favour.  2 1 5 

But  you  may  reafon  diredly  the  reverfe,  he  makes  you 
thus  poor  in  fpirit,  fenfible  of  your  finfulnefs  and  im- 
perfedions,  becaufe  that  he  gracioufly  regards  you. 
He  will  not  fuffer  you  to  be  puffed  up  with  your  ima- 
ginary goodnefs,  like  the  reft  of  the  world,  becaufe 
he  loves  you  more  than  he  loves  them. 

However  unaccountable  this  procedure  feems,  there 
is  very  good  reafon  for  it.  The  poor  are  the  only 
perfons  that  would  relilTi  the  enjoyment  of  God,  and 
prize  his  love :  they  alone  are  capable  of  the  hap- 
pinefs  of  heaven,  which  confifts  in  the  perfection  of 
holinefs. 

To  conclude.  Let  us  view  the  perfedion  and  con- 
defcenfion  of  God  as  illuftrated  by  this  fubjeft.  Con- 
fider,  ye  poor  in  fpirit,  who  He  is  that  {loops  to  look 
upon  fuch  little  things  as  you.  It  is  He  whofe  throne 
is  in  the  higheft  heaven,  furrounded  with  myriads  of 
angels  and  archangels  j  it  is  He  whofe  footftool  is  the 
earth,  who  fupports  every  creature  upon  it;  it  is  He 
who  is  exalted  above  the  bleffing  and  praife  of  all  the 
celeftial  armies,  and  who  cannot  without  condefcenfion 
behold  the  things  that  are  done  in  heaven;  it  is  He 
that  looks  down  upon  fuch  poor  worms  as  you.  And 
what  a  ftoop  is  this  ? 

It  is  he  that  looks  upon  you  in  particular,  who 
looks  after  all  the  worlds  he  has  made.  He  manages 
all  the  affairs  of  the  univerfe  -,  he  takes  care  of  every 
individual  in  his  vaft  family  ;  he  provides  for  all  his 
creatures,  and  yet  he  is  at  leifure  to  regard  you.  He 
takes  as  particular  notice  of  you  as  if  you  were  his 
only  creatures.  What  perfecflion  is  this  !  what  an  in- 
finite grafp  of  thought !  what  unbounded  power  !  and 
what  condefcenfion  too  ! — Do  but  confider  what  a 
fmall  figure  you  make  in  the  univerfe  of  beings.  You 
are  not  fo  much  in  comparifon  with  the  infinite  multi- 
tude of  creatures  in  the  compafs  of  nature,  as  a  grain 
of  fand  to  all  the  fands  upon  the  fea-fliore,  or  as  a 
mote  to  the  vaft  globe  of  earth  ;  and  yet  he,  that  has 
the  care  of  the  whole  univerfe,  takes  particular  notice 

of 


2 1 6  Contrite  Spirits  Ohje5is  of  Divine  Favour.  Serm.  6, 

of  you — you  who  are  but  trifles,  compared  with  your 
fellow-creatures;  and  who,  if  you  were  annihilated, 
would  hardly  leave  a  blank  in  the  creation.  Confider 
this,  and  wonder  at  the  condefcenfiion  of  God  ;  confi- 
der  this,  and  acknowledge  your  own  meannefs;  you 
are  but  nothing  not  only  compared  with  God,  but  you 
are  as  nothing  in  the  fyftem  of  creation. 

I  fhall  add  but  this  one  natural  refledlioti :  If  it  be 
fo  great  a  happinefs  to  have  the  great  God  for  our 
patron,  then  what  is  it  to  be  out  of  his  favour  ?  to  be 
difregarded  by  him  ?  methinks  an  univerfai  tremour 
may  feize  this  afTembly  at  the  very  fuppofition.  And 
is  there  a  creature  in  the  univerfe  in  this  wretched  con- 
dition? methinks  all  the  creation  befides  mufl:  pity 
him.  Where  is  the  wretched  being  to  be  found  ?  muft 
we  defcend  to  hell  to  find  him  ?  No,  alas  !  there  are 
many  fuch  on  this  earth ;  nay,  I  muft  come  nearer  you 
ftill,  there  are  many  fuch  probably  in  this  aflembly : 
all  among  you  are  fuch  who  are  not  poor  and  contrite 
in  fpirit,  and  do  not  tremble  at  the  word  of  the  Lord. 
And  art  not  thou  one  of  the  miferable  number,  O 
man  ?  What !  difregarded  by  the  God  that  made  thee ! 
not  favoured  with  one  look  of  Jove  by  the  Author  of 
all  happinefs !  He  looks  on  thee  indeed,  but  it  is 
with  eyes  of  indignation,  marking  thee  out  for  ven- 
geance ;  and  canll  thou  be  eafy  in  fuch  a  cafe  ?  wilt 
thou  not  labour  to  impoverifli  thyfelf,  and  have  thy 
heart  broken,  that  thou  mayeft  become  the  objedb  of 
his  gracious  regard  ^ 


SERMON 


SERMON     VII. 

The  Nature  and  Danger  of  making  light  of  Chriil 
and  Salvation. 


Matt.  xxii.  5.     But  they  made  light  of  it. 

THERE  is  not  one  of  us  in  this  aflembly  that  has 
heard  any  thing,  but  what  has  heard  of  Chrift 
and  falvation :  there  is  not  one  of  us  but  has  had  the 
rich  bleffings  of  the  gofpe!  freely  and  repeatedly  offer- 
ed to  us  :  there  is  not  one  of  us  but  ftands  in  the  moft 
abfolute  need  of  thefe  blefTnigs,  and  muft  periih  for 
ever  without  them ;  I  wifh  I  could  add,  there  is  not 
one  of  us  but  has  cheerfully  accepted  them  according 
to  the  offer  of  the  gofpel.  But,  alas  !  fuch  an  affem- 
bly  is  not  to  be  expeded  on  earth  !  Multitudes  will 
make  light  of  Chrift  and  the  invitations  of  the  gofpel, 
as  the  Jews  did. 

This  parable  reprefents  the  great  God  under  the 
majeftic  idea  of  a  king. 

He  is  reprefented  as  making  a  marriage-feafl  for 
his  Son ;  that  is,  God  in  the  gofpel .  offers  his  Son 
Jefus  Chrifl:  as  a  Saviour  to  the  guilty  fons  of  men, 
and,  upon  their  acceptance  of  him,  the  moft  intimate, 
endearing  union,  and  the  tendcreft  mutual  affedlion 
take  place  between  Chrift  and  them  •,  which  may  very 
properly  be  reprefented  by  the  marriage  relation.  And 
God  has  provided  for  them  a  rich  variety  of  blefhngs, 
pardon,  holinefs,  and  everlafting  felicity,  which  may 
be  fignified  by  a  royal  nuptial  feaft,  verfe  2. 

Thefe  bleflings  were  firft  offered  to  the  Jews,  who 
were  bidden  to  the  wedding  by  Mofes  and  the  pro- 
phets, whofe  great  bufinefs  it  was  to  prepare  them  to 
receive  the  MefTiah,  verfe  3. 

The  fervants  that  were  fent  to  call  them,  after  they 
were  thus  bidden,  were  the  apoftles  and  feventy  dif- 

F  f  ciples. 


21 8  The  Nature  and  Banger  of  Serm.  7. 

eiples,  whom  Chrift  fent  out  to  preach  that  the  gofpel- 
klngdom  was  juft  at  hand,  verfe  3. 

When  the  Jews  rejected  this  call,  he  fent  forth 
©ther  fervants,  namely,  the  apoftles  after  his  afcenfion, 
who  were  to  be  more  urgent  in  their  invitations,  and 
to  tell  them  that,  in  confeqaence  of  Chrift's  death,  all 
things  were  now  ready,  verfe  4. 

It  is  feldom  that  invitations  to  a  royal  feaft  are  re- 
jeded  ;  but,  alas !  the  Jews  rejected  the  invitation  of 
the  gofpel,  and  would  not  accept  of  its  important 
bleffings.  They  made  light  of  Chrift  and  his  blef- 
fings ;  they  were  carelefs  to  them,  and  turned  their 
attention  to  other  things. 

Thefe  things  were  not  peculiar  to  the  Jews,  but 
belong  to  us  finners  of  the  Gentiles  in  thefe  ends  of 
the  earth.  Chrift  is  ftill  propofed  to  us  •,  to  the  fame 
bleffings  we  are  invited ;  and  I  have  the  honour,  my 
dear  brethren,  of  appearing  amiong  you  as  a  fervant 
of  the  Fleavenly  King,  fent  out  to  urge  you  to  em- 
brace the  offer. 

I  doubt  not  but  fundry  of  you  have  complied  ;  and 
you  are  enriched  and  made  for  ever. 

But,  alas !  muft  I  not  entertain  a  godly  jealoufy 
over  fome  of  you  ?  have  you  not  made  light  of  Chrift 
and  falvation,  to  which  you  have  been  invited  for  fo 
many  years  fucceffively  ? 

Your  cafe  is  really  lamentable,  as  I  hope  you  will 
fee  before  I  have  done ;  and  I  moft  fincerely  compaf- 
fionate  you  from  my  heart.  I  now  rife  up  in  this  fo- 
Jemn  place  with  the  defign  to  addrefs  you  with  the 
moft  awful  ferioufnefs,  and  the  moft  compaffionate 
concern  •,  and  did  you  know  how  much  your  happinefs 
may  depend  upon  it,  and  how  anxious  I  am  Jeaft  I 
fhould  fail  in  the  attempt,  I  am  fure  you  could  not 
but  pray  for  me,  and  pity  me.  If  ever  you  regarded 
a  man  in  the  moft  ferious  temper  and  addrefs,  I  beg 
you  would  now  regard  what  I  am  going  to  fay  to  you. 

You  cannot  receive  any  benefit  from  this,  or  indeed 
any  ot-licr  fubjed,  till  you  apply  it  to  yourfelves.    And 

therefore. 


Serm.  7.  making  light  ofChrifi.  219 

therefore,  in  order  to  reform  you  of  the  fin  of  making 
light  of  Chrift  and  the  gofpe),  I  muft  firfl;  inquire  who 
are  guilty  of  it.     For  this  purpofe  let  us  consider. 

What  it  is  to  make  light  of  Chrill  and  the  invita- 
tions of  the  gofpel. 

I  can  think  of  no  plainer  way  to  difcover  this,  than 
to  inquire  how  we  treat  thofe  things  that  we  highly 
efteem  •,  and  alfo,  by  way  of  contraft,  how  we  treat 
thofe  things  which  we  make  light  of;  and  henCe  we 
may  difcover  whether  Chrift  and  the  gofpel  may  be 
ranked  among  the  things  we  efteem,  or  thofe  we  dif- 
regard. 

I.  Men  are  apt  to  remember  and  affedlionately  think 
of  the  things  that  they  highly  efteem ;  but  as  for  thofe 
which  they  difregard,  they  can  eafily  forget  them, 
and  live  from  day  to  day  without  a  fingle  thought 
about  them. 

Now  do  you  often  afFe6tionately  remember  the 
Lord  Jefus,  and  do  your  thoughts  often  go  after  him  r 
do  they  pay  him  early  vifits  in  the  morning  ?  do  they 
make  frequent  excurfions  to  him  through  the  day  ? 
and  do  you  lie  down  with  him  in  your  hearts  at  night  ? 
Is  not  the  contrary  evident  as  to  many  of  you  ,'*  Can 
you  not  live  from  day  to  day  thoughtlefs  of  Jefus,  and 
your  everlafting  falvation  ?  Recolleft  now,  how  many 
affedlionate  thoughts  have  you  had  of  thefs  things 
through  the  week  paft,  or  in  this  facred  morning. 
And  can  you  indeed  highly  efteem  thofe  things  which 
you  hardly  ever  think  of?  Follow  your  own  hearts. 
Sirs  ;  obferve  which  way  they  moft  naturally  and  free- 
ly run,  a^id  then  judge  whether  you  make  light  of  the 
gofpel  or  not.  Alas  !  we  cannot  perfuade  men  to  one 
hour's  ferious  confideration  what  they  ftiould  do  for  an 
iiitereft  in  Chrift;  we  cannot  perfuade  them  fo  much 
as  to  afford  him  only  their  thoughts,  which  are  fuch 
cheap  things ;  and  yet  they  will  not  be  convinced  that 
they  make  light  of  Chrift.  And  here  lies  the  infatu- 
ation of  fm ;  it  blinds  and  befools  men,  fo  that  they 
dp  not  know  what  they  think  of,  what  they  love,  or 

what 


220  J'he  Nature  and  Danger  of  Serm.  y.- 

what  they  intend,  much  lefs  do  they  know  the  habi- 
tual bent  of  their  fouls.  They  often  imagine  them- 
felves  free,  from  thcfe  iins  to  which  they  are  moft  en- 
ilaved,  and  particularly  they  think  themfelves  inno- 
cent of  the  crime  of  making  light  of  the  gofpel,  when 
this  is  the  very  crime  that  is  likely  to  deftroy  them 
for  ever. 

II.  The  things  that  men  value,  if  of  fuch  a  nature 
as  to  admit  of  publication,  will  be  the  frequent  fub- 
jeds  of  their  difcourfe :  the  thoughts  will  command 
the  tongue,  and  furnifh  materials  for  converfation. 
But  thofe  things  that  they  forget  and  difregard  they 
■will  not  talk  of. 

Do  not  they  therefore  make  light  of  Chrifi:  and  fal- 
vation,  who  have  no  delight  in  converfing  about  them, 
and  liardly  ever  mention  the  name  of  Chrift  but  in  a 
trifling  or  prophane  manner  ^  They  do  not  like  the 
company  where  divine  things  are  difcourfed  of,  but 
think  it  precife  and  troublefome.  They  had  much 
rather  be  entertained  with  hum.ourous  tales  and  idle 
flories,  or  talk  about  the  affairs  of  the  world.  'They 
are  of  the  worlds  fays  St.  John,  therefore  fpeak  they  of 
the  world  J  and  the  world  heareth  them,  i  John  iv.  5. 
They  are  in  their  element  in  fuch  converfation.  Or 
others  may  talk  about  religion ;  but  it  is  only  about 
the  circumftances  of  it,  as,  "  How  fuch  a  man  preach- 
ed ;  it  was  a  very  good  or  a  bad  fermon,"  ^c.  but  they 
care  not  to  enter  into  the  fpirit  and  fubftance  of  divine 
things  ;  and  if  they  fpeak  of  Chrift  and  experimental 
religion,  it  is  in  an  heartlefs,  infipid  manner.  And 
do  not  fuch  make  light  of  the  gofpel  ?  and  is  not  this 
the  charader  of  many  of  you  .? 

III.  Men  make  light  of  thofe  things,  if  they  are 
of  a  pr.i6lical  nature  which  they  only  talk  about,  but 
do  not  reduce  into  pradice. 

Chriftianity  was  intended  not  to  furnifh  matter  for 
empty  talkers,  but  to  govern  the  heart  and  pradice. 
But  are  there  not  feme  that  only  employ  their  tongues 
about  it,  efpecialiy  when  their  fpirits  are  raifed  with 

liquor, 


Serm.  7'  making  light  of  Chrijl.  ill 

liquor,  and  then  a  torrent  of  noify  religion  breaks 
from  them.  Watch  their  lives,  and  you  will  fee  little 
appearance  of  chriftianity  there.  And  do  not  thefe 
evidently  make  light  of  Chrift,  who  make  him  the 
theme  of  their  drunken  converfation,  or  who  feem  to 
think  that  God  fent  his  Son  from  heaven  juft  to  fet 
the  world  a  talking  about  him  ?  There  Is  nothing  in 
nature  that  feems  to  me  more  abominable  than  this. 

IV.  We  take  the  utmoft  pains  and  labour  to  fecure 
the  things  we  value,  and  cannot  be  eafy  while  our 
property  in  them  is  uncertain ;  but  thofe  things  that 
we  think  lightly  of  we  care  but  little  whether  they  be 
ours  or  not. 

Therefore,  have  not  fuch  of  you  made  light  of 
Chrift  and  falvation,  who  have  lived  twenty  or  thirty 
years  uncertain  whether  you  have  an  intereft  in  them, 
and  yet  have  been  eafy  and  contented,  and  take  no 
method  to  be  refolved  .^  Are  all  that  hear  me  this 
day  determined  in  this  important  queftion,  "  What 
fiiall  become  of  me  when  I  die  ?"  Are  you  all  cer- 
tain upon  good  grounds,  and  after  a  thorough  trial, 
that  you  ihall  be  faved  ?  O  that  you  were  !  but,  alas  I 
you  know  you  are  not.  And  do  you  think  you  would 
bear  this  uncertainty  about  it,  if  you  did  not  make 
light  of  falvation?  No  ;  you  would  carefully  examine 
yourfelvesj  you  would  diligently  perufe  the  fcriptures 
to  fmd  out  the  marks  of  thofe  that  ihall  be  faved  ; 
you  would  anxiouily  confult  thofe  that  could  diredl  you, 
and  particularly  pious  minifters,  who  would  think  it 
the  greateft  favour  you  could  do  them  to  devolve  fuch 
an  office  upon  them.  But  now  minifters  may  fit  in 
their  ftudies  for  a  whole  year,  and  not  ten  perfons  per- 
haps in  five  hundred  agreeably  intrude  upon  them  on 
this  moft  important  bufinefs. 

O,  Sirs,  if  the  gofpel  fhould  pierce  your  hearts 
indeed,  you  could  not  but  cry  out  with  the  convided 
Jews,  Men  and  brethren,  what  Jh  all  we  do  to  be  faved? 
A6ls  ii.  37.  Paul,  when  awakened,  cries  out,  in  a 
trembling  confternation,  Lord!  what  wilt  thou  ha'ue 

me 


22  2  The  Ncttire  and  Danger  of  Serm.  7^ 

me  to  do  ?     But  when  fhall  we  hear  fuch  queftlons 
now-a-days  ? 

V.  The  things  that  men  highly  eftecm,  deeply  and 
tenderly  affedl  them,  and  excite  fome  motions  in  their 
hearts  ;  but  what  they  make  light  of,  makes  no  im- 
preffion  upon  them. 

And  if  you  did  not  rnake  light  of  the  gofpel,  what 
workings  would  there  be  in  your  hearts  about  it  ? 
what  folemn,  tender,  and  vigorous  paffions  would  it 
raife  in  you  to  hear  fuch  things  about  the  world  to 
come !  what  forrows  would  burft  from  your  hearts  at 
the  difcovery  of  your  fins  !  what  fear  and  aftonifh- 
ment  would  feize  you  at  the  confederation  of  your  mi- 
fery  !  what  tranfports  of  joy  and  gratitude  would  you 
feel  at  the  glad  tidings  of  falvation  by  the  blood  of 
Chrift !  what  ftrong  efficacious  purpofes  would  be 
raifed  in  you  at  the  difcovery  of  your  duty  \  O  what 
hearers  fhould  we  have,  were  it  not  for  this  one  fin, 
the  making  light  of  the  gofpel !  v/hereas  now  we  are 
in  danger  of  wearying  them,  or  preaching  them  afleep 
with  our  mod  folemn  difcourfes  about  this  momentous 
affair.  We  talk  to  them  of  Chrift  and  falvation  till 
they  grow  quite  tired  of  this  dull  old  tale,  and  this 
fool ifhnefs  of  preaching.  Alas  !  little  would  one  think, 
from  the  air  of  carelefTnefs,  levity,  and  inattention  that 
appears  among  them,  that  they  were  hearing  fuch 
v/eighty  truths,  or  have  any  concern  in  them. 

VI.  Our  eftimate  of  things  may  be  difcovered  by 
the  diligence  and  eameftnefs  of  our  endeavours  about 
them.  Thofe  things  which  we  highly  value,  we  think 
no  pains  too  great  to  obtain  •,  but  what  we  think  light- 
ly of  we  ufe  no  endeavours  about,  or  we  ufe  them  in 
a  languid  carelefs  manner. 

And  do  not  they  make  light  of  Chrift  and  falvation, 
who  do  not  exert  themfelves  in  earneft  to  obtain  them, 
and  think  a  great  deal  of  every  little  thing  they  do 
in  religion.''  they  are  ftill  ready  to  cry  out,  "  What 
naed  of  fo  much  pains  .''  we  hope  to  be  faved  without 
fo  much  trouble,"     And,  though  thefe  may  not  be 

fo 


Serm.  7.  making  light  of  Ckriji.  223 

fo  honeft  as  to  fpeak  it  out,  it  is  plain  from  their  tem- 
per and  praftice,  they  grudge  all  the  fervice  they  do 
for  Chrift,  as  done  to  a  mafter  they  do  not  love.  They 
love  and  efteem  the  world,  and  therefore  for  the  world 
they  will  labour  and  toil  all  day,  and  feeni  never  to 
think  they  can  do  too  much :  but  for  the  God  that 
made  them,  for  the  Lord  that  bought  them,  and  for 
their  everlafting  falvation,  they  feem  afraid  of  taking 
too  much  pains.  Let  us  preach  to  them  as  long  as 
we  will,  we  cannot  bring  them  in  earneft  to  defire  and  . 
purfue  after  holinefs.  Follow  them  to  their  houfes, 
and  you  will  hardly  ever  find  them  reading  a  chapter 
in  their  Bibles,  or  calling  upon  God  with  their  families, 
fo  much  as  once  a  day.  Follow  them  into  their  re- 
tirements, and  you  will  hear  no  penitent  confeffions  of 
fin,  no  earneft  cries  for  mercy,  .  They  will  not  allow 
to  God  that  one  day  in  feven  which  he  has  appropriat- 
ed to  his  own  immediate  fervice,  but  they  will  fteal 
and  proftitute  fome  even  of  thole  facred  hours  for  idle- 
nefs,  or  worldly  converfation,  or  bufinefs.  And  many 
of  them  arefo  malignant  in'wickednefs,  that  they  will 
reproach  and  ridicule  others  that  are  not  fo  made  as 
themfelves  in  thefe  refpeds.  And  is  not  Chrift  worth 
feeking  ?  Is  not  eternal  falvation  worth  fo  much  trou- 
ble ?  does  not  that  man  make  light  of  thefe  things 
that  thinks  his  eafe  or  carnal  pleafure  of  greater  impor- 
tance ?     Let  common  fenfe  judge. 

VIL  That  which  we  highly  value  we  think  we 
cannot  buy  too  dear ;  and  we  are  ready  to  part  with 
'every  thing  that  comes  in  competition  with  it.  The 
merchant  that  found  one  pearl  of  great  price,  fold  all 
that  he  had  to  purchafe  it.  Matt.  xiii.  46.  but  thofe 
thmgs  that  we  make  light  of,  we  will  not  part  with 
things  of  value  for  them. 

Now,  when  Chrift  and  the  blefTmgs  of  the  gofpel 
come  in  competition  with  the  world  and  finful  plea- 
fures,  you  may  know  which  you  moft  highly  efteem, 
by  confidering  which  you  are  moft  ready  to  part  with. 
You  are  called  to  part  with  every  thing  that  is  incon- 

fiftent 


224  The  Nature  and  Danger  of  Serm.  7. 

liftent  with  an  intereft  in  Chrift,  and  yet  many  of  you 
will  not  do  it.  You  are  called  but  to  give  God  his 
own,  to  refign  all  to  his  will,  to  let  go  all  thofe  profits 
and  pleafures  which  you  muft  either  part  with,  or  part 
with  Chrift,  and  yet  your  hearts  cling  to  thefe  things, 
you  grafp  them  eagerly,  and  nothing  can  tear  them 
from  you.  You  muft  have  your  pleafures,  you  muft 
keep  your  credit  in  the  world,  you  muft  look  to  your 
eftates,  whatever  becomes  of  Chrift  and  falvation  ;  as 
if  you  could  live  and  die  better  without  Chrift  than 
without  thefe  things  •,  or  as  if  Chrift  could  not  make 
you  happy  without  them.  And  does  not  this  bring 
the  matter  to  an  iftue,  and  plainly  fliew  that  you  make 
light  of  Chrift  in  comparifon  with  thefe  things  ?  Chrift 
himfelf  has  aflured  you,  over  and  over,  that  unlefs 
you  are  willing  to  part  with  all  for  his  fake,  you  can- 
not be  his  difciples  j  and  yet,  while  you  have  the  quite 
contrary  difpofition,  you  will  pretend  to  be  his  difci- 
ples ;  as  if  you  knew  better  what  it  is  that  conftituted 
his  difciples  than  he. 

VIII.  Thofe  things  which  we  highly  value,  we  fliall 
be  for  helping  our  friends  to  obtain. 

Do  not  thofe,  then,  make  light  of  Chrift  who  do 
not  take  half  fo  much  pains  to  help  their  children  to 
an  intereft  in  him,  as  to  fet  them  up  in  credit  in  the 
world,  and  leave  them  large  fortunes  ^.  They  fupply 
the  outward  wants  of  their  families,  but  they  take 
little  or  no  care  about  their  everlafting  falvation. — • 
Alas  !  Sirs,  the  negleded,  ignorant,  and  vicious  chil- 
dren and  fervants  of  fuch  of  you  can  witnefs  againft 
you,  that  you  make  very  light  of  Chrift  and  falvation, 
and  their  immortal  fouls. 

IX.  That  which  men  highly  efteem  they  will  fo 
diligently  purfue,  that  you  may  fee  their  regard  for  it 
in  their  endeavours  after  it,  if  it  be  a  matter  within 
their  reach. 

You  may  therefore  fee  that  many  make  light  of 
the  gofpel  by  tiie  little  knowledge  they  have  of  it, 
after  all  the  means  of  inftrudlion  with  which  they 

have 


Serm.  7.  making  light  of  Cbriji.  225 

have  been  favoured.  Alas!  where  is  theh-  improve- 
ment in  holinefs  !  how  little  do  they  know  of  their 
own  hearts,  of  God  and  Chrifl,  and  the  world  to 
come,  and  what  they  muft  do  to  be  faved  !  Afk  them 
about  thefe  things,  and  you  will  find  them  ftupidly  ig- 
norant; and  yet  they  have  fo  much  conceited  know- 
ledge that  they  will  not  acknowledge  it ;  or  if  they 
do,  they  have  no  better  excufe  than  to  fay  they  are  no 
fcholars,  or  they  have  a  poor  memory  ;  as  if  it  requir- 
ed extenfive  learning,  or  a  great  genius  to  know  the 
things  that  are  neceflary  to  falvation.  O  !  if  they  had 
not  made  light  of  thefe  things  ;  if  they  had  belliowed 
but  half  the  pains  upon  them  which  they  have  taken 
to  underftand  matters  of  trade  and  v/orldly  bufinefs, 
they  would  not  be  fo  grofsly  ignorant  as  they  are  ? 
When  men  that  can  learn  the  hardeft  trade  in  a  few 
years,  when  men  of  bright  parts,  and  perhaps  confi- 
derable  learning,  after  living  fo  many  years,  are  ftill 
mere  novices  in  matters  of  religion,  and  do  not  fo 
much  as  know  the  terms  of  life  according  to  the  gof- 
pel,  is  it  not  plain  that  they  care  but  little  about  thefe 
things,  and  that  they  make  light  of  the  Son  of  God, 
and  all  his  ineftimable  immortal  bleffings  ? 

Thus  I  have  offered  you  fufficient  matter  of  con- 
vidion  in  this  affair.  And  v/hat  is  the  refult  ^.  does 
not  confcience  fmite  fome  of  you  by  this  time,  and 
fay,  "  I  am  the  man  that  have  made  light  of  Chrift 
and  his  gofpel  ?"  If  not,  upon  what  evidence  are 
you  acquitted  ?  Some  of  you,  I  doubt  not,  can  fay, 
in  the  integrity  of  your  hearts,  "  Alas  !  I  am  too 
carelefs  about  this  important  affair,  but  God  knows  I 
am  often  deeply  concerned  about  it ;  God  knows  that 
if  ever  I  was  in  earneft  about  any  thing  in  all  my  life, 
it  has  been  about  my  everlafting  ftatc ;  and  there  is 
nothing  in  all  the  world  that  habitually  lies  fo  near  my 
heart."  But  are  there  not  fome  of  you  whom  con- 
fcience does  not  accufe  of  this  crime  of  too  much  care- 
leffnefs  about  the  gofpel,  not  becaufe  you  are  innocent, 
but  becaufe  you  make  fo  very  light  of  it,  that  you 

G  g  will 


226  ^he  Nature  and  Danger  of  Serm.  7. 

will  make  no  thorough  fearch  into  it  ?  and  does  not 
this  alone  prove  you  guilty  ?  I  befeech  fuchto  confi- 
der  the  folly  of  your  conducfl.  Do  you  then  think  to 
excufe  your  crime,  by  being  carelefs  whether  you  are 
guilty  of  it  or  not  ?  Can  you  avoid  the  precipice  by 
shutting  your  eyes  ?  If  you  difcover  your  fin  now,  it 
may  be  of  unfpeakable  fervice,  but  if  you  now  fhut 
your  eyes  you  mull:  fee  it  hereafter,  when  it  will  be 
too  late ;  when  your  convidion  will  be  your  punifh- 
ment.  I  befeech  you  alfo  to  confider  the  dreadful  evil 
of  your  conduct  in  making  light  of  a  Saviour.  And 
here  I  ihall  offer  fuch  arguments  to  expofe  its  aggra- 
vations as  I  am  fure  cannot  fail  to  convince  and  aftonilh 
you,  if  you  ad  like  men  of  reafonand  underftanding. 

I.  Confider  you  make  light  of  him  who  did  not 
make  light  of  you,  when  ycu  deferved  his  final  neg- 
ledt  of  you.  You  were  worthy  of  nothing  but  con- 
tempt and  abhorrence  from  him.  As  a  man  you  are 
but  a  worm  to  God,  and  as  a  finner  you  are  viler  than 
a  toad  or  a  ferpent.  Yet  Chrift  was  fo  far  from  mak- 
ing light  of  you,  that  he  left  his  native  heaven,  be- 
came a  man  of  forrows,  and  died  in  the  moft  exquifite 
agonies,  that  a  way  might  be  opened  for  the  falvation 
of  your  miferable  foul :  and  can  you  make  light  of  him 
after  all  his  regard  to  you  }  What  miracles  of  love 
and  mercy  has  he  fhewn  towards  you,  and  can  you 
negled  him  ai-ter  all .''  Angels,  who  are  lefs  concern- 
ed in  thefe  things  than  we,  cannot  but  pry  into*  them 
with  delightful  v/onder,  i  Peter  i.  12.  and  fhall  fin- 
ners,  who  have  the  moll  intimate  perfonal  concern  in 
them,  make  light  of  them  ^  This  is  a  crime  more 
than  devilifii;  for  the  devils  never  had  a  Saviour  of- 
fered to  them,  and  confequently  never  could  defpife 
him.  And  can  you  live  in  a  careleflhefs  of  Chrifi:  all 
your  days,  and  yet  feel  no  remorfe  .^ 

II.  Confider  you  make  light  of  matters  of  the 
grcateft  excellency  and  importance  in  all  the  v/orld. 
O,  Sirs,  you  know  not  what  it  is  that  you  flight ;  had 
you  known  thefe  things  you  would  not  have  ventured 

to 


Serm.  7.  making  light  ofChriJi.  227 

to  make  light  of  them  for  ttn  thoufand  worlds.  As 
Chrift  faid  to  the  woman  of  Samaria,  If  thou  hadfi 
known  the  gift  of  God,  and  who  it  is  that  fpeaketh  to 
thee,  t^u  wouldefi  have  ajked  of  him  living  water.  John 
iv.  13.  Had  the  Jews  known,  they  would  not  have  cru- 
cified the  Lord  of  Glory,  i  Cor.  ii.  8.  So  had  you 
known  what  Jefus  is,  you  would  not  have  made  light 
of  him ;  he  would  have  been  to  you  the  moll  impor- 
tant being  in  the  univerfe.  O  had  you  been  but  one 
day  in  heaven,  and  {Qtn.  and  felt  the  happinefs  there ! 
or  had  you  been  one  hour  under  the  agonies  of  hell, 
you  could  never  more  have  trifled  with  falvation. 

Here  I  find  my  thoughts  run  fo  naturally  into  the 
fame  channel  with  thofe  of  the  excellent  Mr.  Baxter, 
about  a  hundred  years  ago,  that  you  will  allow  me  to 
give  a  long  quotation  from  him,  that  you  may  fee  in 
what  light  this  great  and  good  man  viewed  the  neg- 
lected things  which  the  gofpel  brings  to  your  ears. 
His  words  are  thefe  ;  and  I  am  fure  to  me  they  have 
been  very  weighty  : — "  O,  Sirs,  they  are  no  trifles  or 
jefliing  matters  that  the  gofpel  fpeaks  of.    I  mufl:  needs 
profefs  to  you  that  when  I  have  the   moft  ferious 
thoughts  of  thefe  things,  I  am  ready  to  wonder  that 
fuch  amazing  matters  do  not  overwhelm  the  fouls  of 
men :  that  the  greatnefs  of  the  f'.ibjed  doth  not  fo 
overmatch  our  underfl:andings  and  affeclions,  as  even 
to  drive  men  befide  themfelves,  but  that  God  hath 
always  fomewhat  allayed  it  by  difl:ance;  much  more 
do  I  wonder  that  men  fliould  be  fo  blockifli  as  to  make 
light  of  fuch  things.     O  Lord,    that  men  did   but 
know  what  everlafting  glory  and  everlafting  torments 
are  I  would  they  then  hear  us  as  they  do  ?  would  they 
read  and  think  of  thefe  things  as  they  do  ?     I  profefs 
I  have  been  ready  to  wonder  when  I  have  heard  fuch 
weighty  things  delivered,  how  people  can  forbear  cry- 
ing out  in  the  congregation,  and  much  more  do  I 
wonder  how  they  can  reft,  till  they  have  gone  to  their 
miniflers  and  learned  what  they  fliall  do  to  be  faved, 
that  this  great  bufmefs  fliould  be  put  out  of  doubt. 

O  th.a^ 


i  1 8  ^he  Nature  and  Danger  of  Serm.  7 ; 

O  that  heaven  and  hell  fhould  work  no  more  upon 
men !  O  that  eternity  fhould  work  no  more  !  O  how 
Can  you  forbear  when  you  are  alone  to  think  with 
yourfelves  what  it  is  to  be  everlaftingly  in  joy  or  tor- 
ment !  I  wonder  that  fuch  thoughts  do  not  break  your 
fleep,  and  that  they  do  not  crowd  into  your  minds 
when'  you  are  about  your  labour !  I  wonder  how  you 
can  almoft  do  any  thing  elfe  !  How  can  you  have  any 
quietnefs  in  your  minds  ?  how  can  you  eat  or  drink,  or 
reft,  till  you  have  got  fome  ground  of  everlafting  con- 
folations  ?  Is  that  a  man  or  a  corpfe  that  is  not  affedt- 
ed  with  matters  of  this  moment  ?  that  can  be  readier 
to  fleep  than  to  tremble,  when  he  hears  how  he  muft 
fland  at  the  bar  of  God  ?  Is  that  a  man  or  a  clod  of 
clay  that  can  rife  up  and  lie  down  without  being  deep- 
ly afFefted  with  his  everlafling  lliate  ?  that  can  follow 
his  worldly  bufinefs,  and  make  nothing  of  the  great 
bufinefs  of  falvation  or  damnation,  and  that  when  he 
knows  it  is  fo  hard  at  hand  ?  Truly,  Sirs,  when  I 
think  of  the  weight  of  the  matter,  I  wonder  at  the 
beft  faints  upon  earth,  that  they  are  no  better,  and  do 
no  more  in  fo  weighty  a  cafe.  I  wonder  at  thofe  whom 
the  world  accounts  more  holy  than  needs,  and  fcorns 
for  making  too  much  ado,  that  they  can  put  offChrifl 
and  their  fouls  with  fo  little ;  that  they  do  not  pour 
out  their  fouls  in  every  prayer  ;  that  they  are  not  more 
.taken  up  with  God  •,  that  their  thoughts  are  not  more 
ferious  in  preparation  for  their  lafl  account.  I  wonder 
that  they  are  not  a  thoufand  times  more  ftridt  in  their 
lives,  and  more  laborious  and  unwearied  for  the  crown 
than  they  are.  And  for  myfelf  (fays  that  zealous, 
flaming,  and  indefatigable  preacher)  as  I  am  afhamed 
of  my  dull  and  carelefs  heart,  and  of  my  flow  and 
unprofitable  courfe  of  life,  {o  the  Lord  knows  I  am 
afhamed  of  every  fermon  that  I  preach  :  when  I  think 
what  I  am,  and  who  fent  me,  and  how  much  the  fal- 
vation and  damnation  of  men  is  concerned  in  it,  I  am 
ready  to  tremble,  left  God  fhould  judge  me  as  a 
lighter  of  his  tx^uth  and  the  fouls  of  men,  and  left  in 

mv 


Serm.  7.  making  light  of  Chrijl.  229 

my  beft  fermon  I  fhould  be  guilty  of  their  blood. 
Methinks  we  fhould  not  fpeak  a  word  to  men  in  mat- 
ters of  fuch  confequence  without  tears,  or  the  greateft 
earneftnefs  that  poffibly  we  can.  Were  we  not  too 
much  guilty  of  the  fin  which  we  reprove,  it  would  be 
fo.  Whether  we  are  alone  or  in  company,  methinks 
our  end,  and  fuch  an  end,  fliould  ftill  be  in  our  mind, 
and  as  before  our  eyes ;  and  we  fhould  fooner  forget 
any  thing,  or  fet  light  by  any  thing,  or  by  all  things, 
than  by  this." 

And  now,  my  brethren,  if  fuch  a  man  as  this  view- 
ed thefe  things  in  this  light,  O  what  fhall  we,  we  lan- 
guifhing  carelefs  creatures,  what  fhall  we  think  of  our- 
felves  ^  Into  what  a  dead  fleep  are  we  fallen  I  O  let 
the  moft  adlive  and  zealous  among  us  awake,  and  be  a 
thoufand  times  more  earneft  :  and  ye  frozen-hearted, 
carelefs  finners,  for  God's  fake  awake,  and  exert  your- 
felves  to  good  purpofe  in  the  purfuit  of  falvation,  or 
you  are  loft  to  all  eternity. 

III.  Confider  whofe  falvation  it  is  you  make  light 
of.  It  is  your  own.  And  do  you  not  care  what  be- 
comes of  your  own  felves  ?  Is  it  nothing  to  you  whe- 
ther you  be  faved  or  damned  for  ever  ?  Is  the  natural 
principle  of  felf-love  extinft  in  you  .^  Have  you  no 
concern  for  your  own  prefervation  ?  Are  you  com- 
menced your  own  enemies .''  If  you  flight  Chrift  and 
love  fin,  you  virtually  love  death.  Prov.  viii.  36.  You 
may  as  well  fay,  "  I  will  live,  and  yet  neither  eat  nor 
drink,"  as  fay,  "  I  will  go  to  heaven,  and  yet  make 
light  of  Chrift."  And  you  may  as  well  fay  this  in 
words  as  by  your  practice. 

IV.  Confider  your  fin  is  aggravated  by  profefiing 
to  believe  that  gofpel  which  you  make  light  of.  For  a 
profefled  infidel,  that  does  not  believe  the  fcripture- 
revelation  concerning  Chrift,  and  a  future  ftate  of  re^ 
wards  and  punifiiments,  for  fuch  a  one  to  be  carelefs 
about  thefe  things,  would  not  be  fo  ftrange ;  but  for 
you  that  make  thefe  things  your  creed,  and  a  part  of 
your  religion,  for  you  that  call  yourfelves  chriftians, 

and 


230  'J'he  Nature  and  Danger  of  Serm.  7.  - 

and  have  been  baptized  into  this  faith  ;  for  you,  I  fay, 
to  make  light  of  them,  how  aftonifhing  !  how  utterly 
inexcufable  !  What !  believe  that  you  fhall  live  for 
ever  in  the  mofi:  perfed  happinefs  or  exquifite  mifery, 
and  yet  take  no  more  pains  to  obtain  the  one,  and  ef- 
cape  the  other  ?  What !  believe  that  the  great  and 
dreadful  God  will  fhcrtly  be  your  judge,  and  yet  make 
no  more  preparation  for  it  ?  Either  fay  plainly,  "  I 
am  no  chriftian,  I  do  not  believe  thefe  things;"  or  elfe 
let  your  hearts  be  affeded  with  your  belief,  and  let  it 
influence  and  govern  your  lives. 

V.  Confider  what  thofe  things  are  which  engrofs 
your  afFedions,  and  which  tempt  you  to  negled  Chrift 
and  your  falvation.  Have  you  found  out  a  better 
friend,  or  a  more  fubftantial  and  lafting  happinefs  than 
his  falvation  ?  O  !  what  trifles  and  vanities,  what 
dreams  and  fhadows  are  men  purfuing,  while  they 
negleft  the  important  realities  of  the  eternal  world ! 
If  crowns  and  kingdoms,  if  all  the  riches,  glories, 
and  pleafures  of  the  world  were  infurcd  to  you  as  a 
reward  for  making  light  of  Chrift,  you  would  even 
then  make  the  moft  fooiifh  bargain  poflible  ;  for  what 
are  thefe  in  the  fcale  to  eternal  joy  or  eternal  tempeft? 
and  what  jh all  it  profit  a  man  if  he  gain  even  the  whole 
worlds  andlofe  his  own  foul?  Matt.  xvi.  26,  But  you 
cannot  hope  for  the  ten  thoufandth  part ;  and  will  you 
caft  avv  ay  your  fouls  for  this  .f*  You  that  think  it  fuch 
a  great  thing  to  live  in  riches,  pleafures,  and  honours, 
confider,  is  it  fuch  a  mighty  happinefs  to  die  rich?  to 
die  after  a  life  of  pleafure  and  honour  ?  Will  it  be 
fuch  a  great  happinefs  to  give  an  account  for  the  life 
of  a  rich  fenfualift,  rather  than  of  a  poor  mortified 
creature  ?  Will  Dives  then  be  fo  much  happier  than 
Lazarus  ?  Alas  !  what  does  the  rkheft,  the  higheft, 
the  moft  voluptuous  finner,  what  does  he  do,  but  lay 
up  treafures  of  v/rath  againft  the  day  of  wrath  ?  O  how 
will  the  unhappy  creatures  torture  themfelves  for  ever 
with  the  moft  cutting  refle6tions  for  felling  their  Savi- 
our and  their  fouls  for  fuch  trifles !     Let  your  fins 

and 


Serm.  7.  making  light  of  Ghriji.  231 

and  earthly  enjoyments  fave  you  then,  if  they  can  i  let 
them  then  do  that  for  you  which  Chrift  would  have 
done  for  you  if  you  had  chofen  him.  Then  go  and 
cry  to  the  gods  you  have  chofen  :  let  them  deliver 
you  in  the  day  of  your  tribulation. 

VI.  Your  making  light  of  Chrift  and  falvation  is  a 
certain  evidence  that  you  have  no  intereft  in  them. — 
Chrift  will  not  throw  himfelf  and  his  bleffmgs  away 
upon  thofe  that  do  not  value  them.  "  Thofe  that 
honour  him  he  will  honour-,  but  they  that  defpifehim 
fliall  be  lightly  efteemed."  i  Sam.  ii.  30.  There  is  a 
day  coming,  when  you  will  feel  you  cannot  do  with- 
out him  i  when  you  will  feel  yourielves  periiTiing  for 
want  of  a  Saviour ;  and  then  you  may  go  and  look 
for  a  Saviour  where  you  will ;  then  you  may  fhift  for 
yourfelves  as  you  can-,  he  will  have  nothing  to  do 
with  youi  the  Saviour  of  Sinners  will  caft  you  off  tor 
ever.  I  tell  you.  Sirs,  whatever  eftimate  you  form 
of  thefe  things,  God  thinks  very  highly  of  the  blood 
of  his  Son,  and  the  bleffmgs  of  his  purchafe ;  and  if 
ever  you  obtain  them,  he  will  have  you  think  highly 
of  them  too.  If  you  continue  to  make  light  of  them, 
all  the  world  cannot  fave  you.  And  can  you  find  fault 
with  God  for  denying  you  that  which  was  (o  little  m 
your  account. 

VII.  And  laftly,  the  time  is  haftening  when  you 
will  not  think  fo  flightly  of  Chrift  and  falvation.  O, 
Sirs,  when  God  fhall  commiffion  death  to  tear  your 
guilty  fouls  out  of  your  bodies,  when  devils  fhall  drag 
you  away  to  the  place  of  torment,  when  you  finxl 
yourfelves  condemned  to  everlafting  fire  by  that  Saviour 
whom  you  now  negled,  what  would  you  then  give 
for  a  Saviour.''  When  divine  juftice  brings  in  its 
heavy  charges  againft  you,  and  you  have  nothing  to 
anfwer,  how  will  you  then  cry,  "  O  if  I  had  chofen 
Jefus  for  my  Saviour,  he  would  have  anfwered  all !" 
When  you  fee  that  the  world  has  deferted  you,  that 
your  companions  in  fin  have  deceived  themfelves  and 
you,  and  all  your  merry  days  are  over  for  ever,  would 

you 


2^2         Dduger  of  making  light  of  Chriji.       Serm.  7,  • 

you  not  then  give  ten  thoufand  worlds  for  Chrift  ? 
And  will  you  not  now  think  him  worthy  of  your  efteem 
and  earneil;  purfuit  ?  Why  will  ye  judge  of  things  now 
quite  the  reverfe  of  what  you  will  do  then,  when  you 
will  be  more  capable  of  judging  rightly  ? 

And  now,  dear  immortal  fouls !  I  have  difcovered 
the  nature  and  danger  of  this  common  but  unfufpeded 
and  unlamented  fin,  making  light  of  Chrift.  I  have 
delivered  my  mefTage,  and  now  I  muft  leave  it  with 
you,  imploring  the  bleffing  of  God  upon  it.  I  can- 
not follow  you  home  to  your  houfes  to  fee  what  effedt 
it  has  upon  you,  or  to  make  application  of  it  to  each 
of  you  in  particular  •,  but,  O  may  your  confciences  un- 
dertake this  office!  Whenever  you  fpend  another 
prayerlefs,  thoughtlefs  day,  whenever  you  give  your- 
felves  up  to  finful  pleafures,  or  an  over-eager  purfuit  of 
the  world,  may  your  confcience  become  your  preacher, 
2.rA  fting  you  with  this  expoftulation  :  "  Alas  !  is  this 
t\\Q  effeft  of  all  I  have  heard  ?  Do  I  ftill  make  light 
of  Chrift  and  the  concerns  of  religion?  O  what  will 
be  the  end  of  fuchacondu6l !" 

I  cannot  but  fear  after  all,  that  fome  of  you,  as 
ufual,  will  continue  carelefs  and  impenitent.  Well, 
when  you  are  fuiFering  the  puniftiment  of  this  fin  in 
hell,  remember  that  you  were  warned,  and  acquit  me 
from  being  accefiary  to  your  ruin.  And  when  we  all 
appear  before  the  fupreme  Judge,  and  I  am  called  to 
give  an  account  of  my  miniftry  ;  when  I  am  alked, 
"  Did  you  warn  thefe  creatures  of  their  danger }  Did 
you  lay  before  them  their  guilt  in  making  light  of  thefe 
things.?"  you  will  allow  me  to  anfwer,  "  Yes,  Lord, 
I  warned  them  in  the  beft  manner  I  could,  but  they 
would  not  believe  me ;  they  would  not  regard  what  I 
faid,  though  enforced  by  the  authority  of  thy  awful 
name,  and  confirmed  by  thine  own  word.'*  O  !  Sirs, 
muft  I  give  in  this  accufation  againft  any  of  you  } 
No,  rather  have  mercy  upon  yourfelves,  and  have 
mercy  upon  me,  that  I  may  give  an  account  of  you 
with  joy,  and  not  with  grief. 

SERMON 


SERMON     VIII. 

The  Compaflion  of  Chrift  to  weak  Believers, 


Matt.  xii.  20.     A  bruifed  reedjhall  he  not  breaks  and 
fmoking  flax  Jhall  he  not  quench. 

THE  Lord  Jefus  poffefles  all  thofe  virtues  in  the 
higheft  perfedion,  which  render  him  infinitely 
amiable,  and  qualify  him  for  the  adminiftration  of  a 
juft  and  gracious  government  over  the  world.  The 
virtues  of  mortals,  when  carried  to  a  high  degree, 
very  often  run  into  thofe  vices  which  have  a  kind  of 
affinity  to  them.  "  Right  too  rigid  hardens  into 
wrong."  Strift  juftice  fteels  itfelf  into  exceffive  feve- 
rity ;  and  the  man  is  loft  in  the  judge.  Goodnefs  and 
mercy  fometimes  degenerate  into  foftnefs  and  an  irra- 
tional compaflion  inconfiftent  with  government.  But 
in  Jefus  Chrift  thefe  feemingly  oppofite  virtues  center 
and  harmonize  in  the  higheft  perfedtion,  without  run- 
ning into  extremes.  Hence  he  is  at  once  charadierized 
as  a  Lamb,  and  as  the  Lion  of  the  tribe  of  Judah : 
a  Lamb  for  gentlenefs  towards  humble  penitents,  and 
a  Lion  to  tear  his  enemies  in  pieces.  Chrift  is  faid  to 
judge  and  make  war.  Rev.  xix.  1 1 .  and  yet  he  is  called 
*The  Prince  of  Peace.  I  fa.  ix.  6.  He  will  at  length 
fhew  himfeif  terrible  to  the  workers  of  iniquity  •,  and 
the  terrors  of  the  Lord  are  a  very  proper  topic  wlience 
to  perfuade  men  -,  but  now  he  is  patient  towards  all 
men,  and  he  is  all  love  and  tendernefs  towards  the 
meaneft  penitent.  The  meeknefs  and  gentlenefs  of 
Chrift  is  to  be  the  pleafing  entertainment  of  this  day  ; 
and  I  enter  upon  it  with  a  particular  view  to  thofe 
mourning  defponding  fouls  among  us,  whofe  weak- 
nefs  renders  them  in  great  need  of  ftrong  confolation. 
To  fuch  in  particular:  I  addrefs  the  words  of  my  text, 
^  h  A  bruifed 


234  'The  CojnpaJJion  of  Chriji  Serm.  ^, 

A  bruifed  reed  Jh all  he  not  breaks  and  fmoking  fiax  jhall 
he  not  quench. 

This  is  a  part  of  the  Redeemer's  chara6ler,  as  de- 
lineated near  three  thoufand  years  ago  by  the  evangeli- 
cal prophet  Ifaiah,  Ifa.  xlii.  i — 4.  and  it  is  exprefsly 
applied  to  him  by  St.  Matthew:  Behold^  fays  the  Fa- 
ther, my  fervant  whom  I  have  chofen  for  the  important 
undertaking  of  faving  the  guilty  fons  of  men  •,  "  my 
beloved,  in  whom  my  foul  is  well  pleafed;"  my  very 
foul  is  well  pleafed  with  his  faithful  difcharge  of  the 
important  office  he  has  undertaken.  /  ivHl  put  my 
fpirit  upon  hm  \  that  is,  I  will  completely  furnifh  him 
by  the  gifts  of  my  fpirit  for  his  high  charader  •,  and  he 
Jljall  ftoew  judgment  to  the  Gentiles :  to  the  poor  benight- 
ed Gentiles  he  fhall  fhev/  the  light  of  falvation  -,  by  re- 
vealing the  gofpel  to  them  ;  which,  in  the  ftile  of  the 
Old  Teilament,  may  be  called  his  judgments.  Or  he 
will  fliew  and  execute  the  judgment  of  this  world  by 
cafting  out  its  infernal  prince,  who  had  fb  long  exer- 
cifed  an  extenfive  cruel  tyranny  over  it.  He /hall  not 
firive  nor  cry^  neither  jhall  any  man  hear  his  voice  in  the 
Jireets  ;  that  is,  though  he  enters  the  world  as  a  mighty 
prince  and  conqueror  to  eftablifh  a  kingdom  of  righte- 
oufnefs,  and  overthrow  the  kingdom  of  darknefs,  yet 
he  will  not  introduce  it  with  the  noify  terrors  and 
thunders  of  war,  but  fhall  fhew  himfelf  mild  and  gen- 
tle as  the  prince  of  peace.  Or  the  connedlion  may 
lead  us  to  underiland  thefe  words  in  a  different  fenfe, 
namely,  He  fhall  do  nothing  with  clamorous  oftenta- 
tion,  nor  proclaim  his  wonderful  works,  when  it  fhall 
anfwer  no  valuable  end.  Accordingly  the  verfe  of  our 
text  ilands  thus  connefted  ;  Great  multitudes  followed 
him ;  and  he  healed  them  all^  and  charged  thein  that  they 
JJjould  not  'make  him  known.  That  it  might  be  fulfilled 
which  was  fpoken  by  Ifaiab  the  prophet^  f^yi'^g-, — He 
fijall  not  cry,  neither  (Ijall  any  man  hear  his  voice  in  the 
Jireets;  that  is,  he  fhall  not  publifh  his  miracles  with 
noify  triumph  in  the  flreets,  and  other  public  places. 
And  when  it  is  faid.  He  jhall  not  jirive^  it  may  refer 

to 


Serm.  8.  to  weak  Believers.  235 

to  his  inoffenfive  paffive  behaviour  towards  his  ene- 
mies that  were  plotting  his  death.  For  thus  we  may 
conned  this  quotation  from  Ifalah  with  the  preceding 
hiftory  in  the  chapter  of  our  text :  Tkcn  the  Pharifess 
went  otit^  and  held  a  council  againfi  him,  how  they  mtght 
defiroy  him.  But  when  Jufes  knew  it,  inftead  of  pray- 
ing to  his  Father  for  a  guard  of  angels,  or  employing 
his  own  miraculous  power  to  deftroy  them,  he  with- 
drew hi mf elf  from  thence  \ — that  it  might  be  fulfilled 
which  was  fpoken  by  the  prophet  Ifaiah,  faying, — He 
fhall  not  Jlrive. 

The  general  meaning  of  my  text  feems  to  be  con- 
tained in  this  obfervation  :  "  That  the  Lord  Jefus 
has  the  tendereft  and  moft  compaffionate  regard  to  the 
feebleft  penitent,  hov/ever  opprefied  and  defponding  ; 
and  that  he  will  approve  and  cherifli  the  leaft  fpark  of 
true  love  towards  himfelf. 

The  brulfed  reed  feems  naturally  to  reprefent  a  foul 
at  once  feeble  in  itfelf,  and  crufhed  with  a  burden  •,  a 
foul  both  weak  and  opprefied.  The  reed  is  a  flender 
frail  vegetable  in  Itfelf,  and  therefore  a  very  proper 
image  to  reprefent  a  foul  that  is  feeble  and  weak,  A 
bruifed  reed  is  ftill  more  frail,  hangs  its  head,  and  is 
unable  to  ftand  without  fome  prop.  And  what  can  be 
a  more  lively  emblem  of  a  poor  foul,  not  only  weak 
in  itfelf,  but  bowed  down  and  broken  under  a  load  of 
fin  and  forrow,  that  doops  and  finks,  and  is  unable  to 
ftand  without  divine  fupport  ?  Strength  may  bear  up 
under  a  buiden,  or  ftruggle  with  it,  till  it  has  thrown 
it  ofF;  but  opprefied  weaknefs,  frailty  under  a  bur- 
den, Vv'hat  can  be  more  pitiable  ?  and  yet  this  is  the 
cafe  of  many  a  poor  penitent.  He  is  weak  in  him- 
felf, and  in  the  mean  time  crufiied  under  an  heavy 
weight  of  guilt  and  diftrefs. 

And  what  would  become  of  fuch  a  frail  opprefied 
creature,  if,  infl:ead  of  raifing  him  up  and  fupporting 
him,  Jefus  fnould  tread  and  crufii  him  under  the  foot 
of  his  indignation  ?  But  though  a  reed,  efpecially  a 
bruifed  reed,  is  an  infignificant  thing,  of  little  or  no 

ufe, 


2^6  The  Compajfion  of  Chriji  Serm.  8. 

ufe,  yet  "  a  bruifed  reed  he  will  not  break,"  but  he 
raifes  it  up  with  a  gentle  hand,  and  enables  it  to  ftand, 
though  weak  in  itfelf,  and  eafily  crufhed  in  ruin. 

Perhaps  the  imagery,  when  drawn  at  length,  may 
be  this :  "  The  Lord  Jefus  is  an  almighty  conqueror, 
inarches  in  ftate  through  our  world  i  and  here  and 
there  a  bruifed  reed  lies  in  his  way.  But  inftead  of 
difregarding  it,  or  trampling  it  under  foot,  he  takes 
care  not  to  break  it :  he  raifes  up  the  drooping  ftraw, 
trifling  as  it  is,  and  fupports  it  with  his  gentle  hand." 
Thus,  poor  broken-hearted  penitents,  thus  he  takes 
care  of  you,  and  fupports  you,  worthlefs  and  trifling 
as  you  are.  Though  you  feem  to  lie  in  the  way  of 
his  juftice,  and  it  might  tread  you  with  its  heavy  foot, 
yet  he  not  only  does  not  crufh  you,  but  takes  you  up, 
and  infpires  you  with  flrength  to  bear  your  burden, 
and  flourifh  again. 

Or  perhaps  the  imagery  may  be  derived  from  the 
practice  of  the  ancient  fhepherds,  who  were  wont  to 
amufe  themfelves  with  the  mufic  of  a  pipe  of  reed  or 
jftraw  j  and  when  it  was  bruifed  they  broke  it,  or  threw 
it  away  as  ufelefs.  But  the  bruifed  reed  fhall  not  be 
broken  by  this  divine  Shepherd  of  fouls.  The  mufic 
of  broken  fighs  and  groans  is  indeed  all  that  the  broken 
reed  can  afford  him :  the  notes  are  but  low,  melan- 
choly, and  jarring :  and  yet  he  will  not  break  the  in- 
ftrument,  but  he  will  repair  and  tune  it,  till  it  is  fit  to 
join  in  the  concert  of  angels  on  high ;  and  even  now 
its  humble  ftrains  are  pleafing  to  his  ears.  Surely 
every  broken  heart  among  us  muft  revive,  while  con- 
templating this  tender  and  moving  imagery  ! 

The  other  emblem  is  equally  fignificant  and  aifedb- 
ing.  The  fmoking  flax  Jhall  he  not  quench.  It  feems  to 
be  an  allufion  to  the  wick  of  a  candle  or  lamp,  the 
flame  of  which  is  put  out,  but  it  ftill  fmokes,  and  re- 
tains a  litde  fire,  which  may  again  be  blown  into  a 
flame,  or  rekindled  by  the  application  of  more  fire. 
Many  fuch  dying  fnuffs  or  fmoking  wicks  are  to  be 
found  m  the  candlefticks  of  the  churches,  and  in  the 

lamps 


Serm.  8.  to  weak  Believers.  .         237 

lamps  of  the  fanduary.     The  flame  of  divine  love  is 
juft  expiring,  it  is  funk  into  the  focket  of  a  corrupt 
heart,  and  produces  no  clear  fteady  blaze,  but  only  a 
fmoke  that  is  difagreeable,  although  it  fhews  that  a 
fpark  of  the  facred  fire  ftill  remains  ;  or  it  produces  a 
faint  quivering  flame  that  dies  away,  then  catches  and 
revives,  and  feems  unwilling  to  be  quenched  entirely. 
The  devil  and  the  world  raife  many  florms  of  temp- 
tation to  blow  it  out-,  and  a  corrupt  heart,  like  a  foun- 
tain, pours  out  water  to  quench  it.     But   even   this 
fmoking  flax,  this  dying  fnufF,  Jefus  will  not  quench, 
but  he  blows  it  up  into  a  flame,  and  pours  in  the  oil 
of  his  grace  to  recruit  and  nouriih   it.     He  walks 
among  the  golden  candlefticks,  and  trims  the  lamps 
of  his  fancfluary.     Where  he  finds  empty  vefiels  with- 
out oil  or  a  fpark  of  heavenly  fire,  like  thofe  of  the 
foolifli  virgins,  he  breaks  the  vefiels,  or  throws  them 
out  of  his  houfe.     But  where  he  finds  the  leafl:  fpark 
of  true  grace,  where  he  difcovers  but  the  glimpfe  of 
fincere  love  to  him,  where  he  fees  the  principle  of  true 
piety,  which,  though  jufl:  expiring,  yet  renders  the 
heart  fufceptive  of  divine  love,  as  a  candle  juft  put 
out  is  eafily  rekindled,  there  he   will  ftrengthen  the 
things  which  remain,  and  are  ready  to  die :  he  will 
blow  up  the  dying  fnuft  to  a  lively  flame,  and  caufe  it 
to   fhine   brighter  and   brighter  to  the  perfeit  day. 
Where  there  is  the  Icaft  principle  of  true  holiiiefs  he 
will  cherifli  it.     He   will  furnifh  the  expiring  lamp 
with  frelh  fupplies  of  the  oil  of  grace,  and  of  hea- 
venly fire  i  and  all  the  florm.s  that  beat  upon  it  fliall 
not  be  able  to  put   it  out,  becaufe  flieltered   by   his 
hand. 

I  hope,  my  dear  brethren,  fom.e  of  you  begin  already 
to  feel  the  pleafing  energy  of  this  text.  Are  you  not 
ready  to  fay,  "  BlefTed  Jefus  !  is  this  thy  true  charac- 
ter ?  'Then  thou  art  juft  fuch  a  Saviour  as  I  want,  and 
I  moft  willingly  give  up  myfelf  to  thee."  You  are 
fenfible  you  are  at  beft  but  a  bruifed  reed,  a  feeble, 
iJiattered,  iifelefs  thing  •,  an  unturxcable,  broken  pipe 

of 


2^8  ^'he  Compajjion  of  Chrifi  Serm.  8/ 

of  ftraw,  that  can  make  no  proper  mufic  for  the  en- 
tertainment of  your  divine  fhepherd.  Your  heart  is 
at  beft  but  fmoking  flax,  where  the  love  of  God  often 
appears  like  a  dying  fnuff;  or  an  expiring  flame  that 
quivers  and  catches,  and  hovers  over  the  lamp,  juft 
ready  to  go  out.  Such  fome  of  you  probably  feel 
yourfelves  to  be.  Well,  and  what  think  yc  of  Chriil } 
"  He  will  not  break  the  bruifed  reed,  nor  quench  the 
fmoking  flax  ;"  and  therefore,  may  not  even  your  guil- 
ty eyes  look  to  this  gentle  Saviour  with  encouraging 
liope  .f*  Miy  you  not  fiy  to  him,  with  the  fweet  finger 
of  Ifrael,  in  his  laft  moments,  lie  is  all  7ny  falvation, 
and  all  my  dejire.  2  Sam.  xxiii.  5. 

In  profecuting  this  fubjedt  I  intend  to  illuflrate  the 
charailer  of  a  weak  believer,  as  reprefentcd  in  my  text, 
and  then  to  illufl:rate  the  care  and  compaffion  of  Jefus 
Chrift  even  for  fuch  a  poor  weakling. 

1.  I  am  to  illuftrate  the  charafter  of  a  weak  believer 
as  reprefented  in  my  text  by  "  a  bruifed  reed,  and 
fmoking  flax.*' 

The  metaphor  of  a  bruifed  reed,  as  I  obferved,  feems 
moft  naturally  to  convey  the  idea  of  a  ftate  of  weak- 
nefs  and  oppreflion.  And  therefore  In  Illuftrating  it 
I  am  naturally  led  to  defcribe  the  various  weaknefles 
which  a  believer  fometimes  painfully  feels,  and  to  point 
out  the  heavy  burdens  which  he  fometimes  groans  un- 
der; I  fay,  fometimes,  for  at  other  times  even  the 
weak  believer  finds  himfelf  ftrong,  ftrong  in  the  Lord^ 
and  in  the  power  of  his  mighty  and  firengthened  with 
might  by  the  Spirit  in  the  inner  man.  The  joy  of  the 
Lord  is  his  fl:rength  ;  and  he  "  can  do  all  things 
throu3;h  Chrifl:  fl:rengthcning  him."  Even  the  op- 
prefied  believer  at  times  feels  himfelf  delivered  from 
his  burden,  and  he  can  lift  up  his  drooping  head,  and 
walk  upright.  But,  alas!  the  burden  returns,  and 
cruflies  him  again.  And  under  fome  burden  or  other 
many  hon^fl-hearted  believers  groan  out  the  mofl:  part 
of  their  lives. 

Let 


Serm.  8.  to  weak  Believers.  239 

Let  us  now  fee  what  are  thofe  weaknefles  which  a 
believer  feels  and  laments.  He  finds  himfelf  weak  in 
knowledge  \  a  iimple  child  in  the  knowledge  of  God 
and  divine  things.  He  is  weak  in  love ;  the  facrecl 
flame  does  not  rife  with  a  perpetual  fervor,  and  diffufe 
itfelf  through  all  his  devotions,  but  at  times  it  lan- 
guifhes  and  dies  away  into  a  fmoking  fnuff.  He  is 
weak  in  faith ;  he  cannot  keep  a  llrong  hold  of  the 
Almighty,  cannot  fufpend  his  all  upon  his  promifes 
with  cheerful  confidence,  nor  build  a  firm  immoveable 
fabric  of  hope  upon  the  rock  Jefus  Chrifl.  He  is 
weak  in  hope-,  his  hope  is  dafhed  with  rifing  billows 
of  fears  andjealoufies,  and  fom.etimes  jufl  overfet.  He 
is  weak  in  joy ;  he  cannot  extracfc  the  fwects  of  chrif- 
tianity,  rior  tafle  the  comforts  of  his  religion.  He  is 
weak  in  zeal  for  God  and  the  interefls  of  his  kingdom  > 
he  would  wifh  him.felf  always  a  flaming  feraph,  always 
glowing  with  zeal,  always  unwearied  in  ferving  his 
God,  and  promoting  the  defigns  of  redeeming  love 
in  the  world  •,  tut,  alas  !  at  times  his  zeal,  with  his 
love,  languifhes  and  dies  away  into  a  fmoking  fnufiP. 
He  is  weak  in  repentance  j  troubled  with  that  plague 
of  plagues,  an  hard  heart.  He  is  weak  in  the  con- 
flid:  with  indwelling  fin,  that  is  perpetually  making 
infurredions  within  h'm.  He  is  weak  in  refifbing 
temptations  \  which  crowd  upon  him  from  without, 
and  are  often  likely  to  overwhelm  him.  He  is  v/eak 
in  courage  to  encounter  the  king  of  terrors,  and  ven- 
ture through  the  valley  of  the  fhadow  of  death.  He 
is  weak  in  prayer,  in  importunity,  in  filial  boldnefs  in 
approaching  the  mercy-feat.  He  is  weak  in  abilities 
tp  endeavour  the  converfion  of  finners,  and  fave  fouls 
from  death.  In  fhort,  he  is  weak  in  every  thing  in 
which  he  fhould  be  flrong.  He  has  indeed,  like  the 
church  of  Philadelphia,  a  litde  f^rength  •,  Rev.  iii.  8^ 
and  at  times  he  feels  it;  but  O  !  it  feems  to  him  much 
too  little  for  the  work  he  has  to  do.  Thefe  weaknefles 
or  defe6ls  the  believer  feels,  painfully  and  tenderly 
feels,  and  bitterly  laments.     A  fenfe  of  them  keeps 

him 


240  The  Compaffion  of  Chrifi  Sefm.  ^. 

him  upon  his  guard  againft  temptations :  he  is  not 
venturefome  in  ruihing  into  the  combat.  He  would 
not  parley  with  temptation,  but  would  keep  out  of 
its  way;  nor  would  he  run  the  riik  of  a  defeat  by  an 
oftentatious  experiment  of  his  ftrength.  This  fenfe 
of  weaknefs  alfo  keeps  him  dependent  upon  divine 
ftrength.  He  clings  to  that  fupport  given  to  St.  Paul 
in  an  hour  of  hard  conflift.  My  grace  is  fu>jicient  for 
thee  ;  for  my  flrength  is  made  perfect  in  tveaknefs  •,  and 
when  a  fcnfe  of  his  weaknefs  has  this  happy  efFe6l  upon 
him,  then  with  St.  Paul  he  has  reafon  to  fay,  When  I 
arri  weak^  then  am  I ftrong.  2  Cor.  xii.  9,  10. 

I  fav  the  believer  feels  and  laments  thefe  weaknefies ; 
and  this  is  the  grand  diftinc5tion  in  this  cafe  between 
him  and  the  reft  of  the  world.  They  are  weak  too; 
much  weaker  than  lie ;  nay,  they  have,  properly,  no 
fpiritual  ftrength  at  all;  but,  alas!  they  do  not  feel 
their  weaknefs,  but  the  poor  vain  creatures  boaft  of 
their  ftrength,  and  think  they  can  do  great  things 
when  they  are  difpofed  for  them.  Or  if  their  repeat- 
ed falls  and  defeats  by  temptation  extort  them  to  a 
confeflion  of  their  weaknefs,  they  plead  it  rather  as  an 
excufe,  than  lament  it  as  at  once  a  crime  and  a  cala- 
mity. But  the  poor  believer  tries  no  fucli  artifice  to 
extenuate  his  guilt.  He  is  fenfible  that  even  his  weak- 
nefs itfelf  has  guilt  in  it,  and  therefore  he  laments  it 
with  ingenuous  forrows  among  his  other  fins. 

Now,  have  I  not  delineated  the  very  chara6lcr  of 
fome  of  you  .^  fuch  weaklings,  fuch  frail  reeds  you 
feel  yourfelves  to  be.  Well,  hear  this  kind  affiirance, 
"  Jefus  will  not  break  fuch  a  feeble  reed,  but  he  will 
fupport  and  ftrengthen  it." 

But  you  perhaps  not  only  feel  you  arc  weak,  but 
you  are  opprefied  v/ith  fome  heavy  burden  or  other. 
You  are  not  only  a  reed  for  weaknefs,  but  you  are  a 
bruifed  reed,  trodden  under  foot,  cruftied  under  a  load. 
Even  this  is  no  unufual  or  difcouraging  cafe  ;  for, 

The  weak  believer  often  feels  himfelf  crufhed  under 
fome  heavy  burden.     The  frail  reed  is  often  bruifed; 

bruifed 


Serm.  8.  to  ijoeak  Believers.  241 

bruifed  under  a  due  fenfe  of  guilt.     Guilt  lies  heavy 
at  times  upon  his  conicience,  and  he  cannot  throw  it 
oif.     Bruiled  with  a  fenfe  of  remaining  fin,  which  he 
finds  ftill  flrong  within  him,  and  which  at  times  pre- 
vails, and  treads  him  under  foot.     Bruifed  under  a 
burden  of  v/ants,  the  want  of  tenderncfs  of  heart,  of 
ardent  love  to  God  and   mankind,  the  want  of  hea- 
venly-mindednefs  and  victory  over  the   world  \  the 
want  of  conduc^l  and  refolution  to  direct  his  behaviour 
in  a  pafihge  fo  intricate  and  difficult,  and  the  want  of 
nearer  intercourfe  with  the  Father  and  his  fpirit:  in 
fhort,  a  thoufand  prefling  wants  crufn  and  bruife  him. 
He  alfo  feels  his  fhare  of  the  calamities  of  life  in  com- 
mon with  other  men.     But  thefe  burdens  I  lliall  take 
no  farther  notice  of,  becaufe  they  are  not  peculiar  to 
him  as  a  believer,  nor  do  they  lie  heavieft  upon  his 
heart.     He  could  eafily  bear  up  under  all  the  calami- 
ties ot  life  if  his  fpiritual  wants  were  fupplied,  and 
the  burden  of  guilt  and  fin  were  removed.     Under 
thefe  laft  he  groans  and  finks.     Indeed  thefe  burdens 
lie  with  all  their  full  weight  upon  the  v/orld  around 
him ;  but  they  are  dead  in  trefpafles  and  fins,  and  feel 
them  not :  they  do  not  groan  under  them,  nor  labour 
for  deliverance  from  them.     They  lie  contented  under 
them,  with  more  flupidity  than  beafls  of  burden,  till 
they  fink  under  the  intolerable  load  into  the  depth  of 
mifery.     But  the  poor  believer  is  not  fo  flupid,  and 
his  tender  heart  feels  the  burden,  and  groans  under 
it.     We  that  are  in  this  tabernacle^  fays  St.  Paul,  do 
groan^  being  burdened.  1  Cor.  v.  4.    The  believer  un- 
derftands  feelingly  that  pathetic  exclamation,  O  wretch- 
ed man  that  I  am !  who  Jhall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of 
this  death?  Rom.  vii.  24.     He  cannot  be  eafy  till  his 
confcience  is  appeafed  by  a  well-attefled  pardon  through 
the  blood  of  Chrift;  and  the  fins  he  feels  working 
within  him  are  a  real  burden  and  uneafmefs  to  him, 
though  they  fhould  never  break  out  into  action,  and 
publicly  difhonour  his  lioly  profefljon. 

I  i  And 


242  ^Ihe  Companion  of  Chrifi  Serm.  8,- 

And  is  not  this  the  very  charafter  of  fome  poor 
opprefied  creatures  among  you  ?  I  hope  it  is.  You 
may  look  upon  your  cafe  to  be  very  difcouraging,  but 
Jefus  looks  upon  it  in  a  more  favourable  light ;  Ke 
looks  upon  you  as  proper  obje(5ls  of  his  compaflionate 
care.  Bruifed  as  you  are,  he  will  bind  you  up,  and 
fupport  you. 

II.  But  I  proceed  to  take  a  view  of  the  charader 
of  a  weak  chriftian,  as  reprefented  in  the  other  me- 
taphor in  my  text,  namely,  fmoking  flax.  The  idea 
mod  naturally  conveyed  by  this  metaphor  is,  that  of 
grace  true  and  fincere,  but  languifhing  and  juft  expir- 
ing, like  a  candle  juft  blown  out,  which  ftill  fmokes 
and  retains  a  feeble  fpark  of  fire.  It  fignifies  a  fuf- 
ceptibility  of  a  farther  grace,  or  a  readinefs  to  catch 
that  facred  fire,  as  a  candle  juft  put  out  is  eafily  re- 
kindled. This  metaphor  therefore  leads  me  to  de- 
fcribe  the  reality  of  religion  in  a  low  degree,  or  to  de- 
lineate the  true  chriftian  in  his  moft  languifliing  hours. 
And  in  {o  doing  I  ftiall  mention  thofe  difpofitions  and 
exercifes  which  the  v»?eakeft  chriftian  feels,  even  \\\ 
thefe  melancholy  feafons ;  for  even  in  thefe  he  widely 
differs  ftill  from  the  moft  poliftied  hypocrite  in  his 
higheft  improvements.  On  this  fubjedl  let  me  folicit 
your  moft  ferious  attention ;  for,  if  you  have  the  leaft 
fpark  of  real  religion  within  you,  you  are  now  likely 
to  difcover  it,  as  I  am  not  going  to  rife  to  the  high 
attainments  of  chriftians  of  the  firft  rank,  but  to  ftoop 
to  the  character  of  the  meaneft.  Now  the  peculiar 
difpofitions  and  exercifes  of  heart  which  fuch  in  fome 
meafure  feel,  you  may  difcover  from  the  following 
iliort  hiftory  of  their  cafe. 

The  weak  chriftian  in  fuch  languiftiing  hours  does 
indeed  fometimes  fall  into  fuch  a  ftate  of  carelefTnefs 
and  infenfibility,  that  he  has  very  few  and  but  fuper- 
ficial  exercifes  of  mind  about  divine  things.  But  ge- 
nerally he  feels  an  uneafinefs,  an  emptinefs,  an  anxiety 
within,  under  which  he  droops  and  pines  away,  and 
al]  the  world  cannot  heal  the  difeafe,     He  has  chofen 

the 


Serm.  8.  to  weak  Believers.  245 

the  bleffed  God  as  his  fupreme  happinefs  -,  and,  when 
he  cannot  derive  happinefs  from  that  fource,  all  the 
fweets  of  created  enjoyments  become  infipid  to  him<> 
and  cannot  fill  up  the  prodigious  void  which  the  ab- 
fence  of  the  Supreme  Good  leaves  in  his  craving  foul. 
Sometimes  his  anxiety  is  indiftindl  and  confufed,  and*. 
he  hardly  knows  what  ails  him  *,  but  at  other  times  he 
feels  it  is  for  God,  the  living  God,  that  his  foul  pants. 
The  evaporations  of  this  fmoking  flax  naturally  af- 
cend  towards  heaven.  He  knows  that  he  never  can 
be  happy  till  he  can  enjoy  the  communications  of  divine 
love.  Let  him  turn  which  way  he  will,  he  can  find 
no  folid  eafe,  no  reft,  till  he  comes  to  this  center  again. 

Even  at  fuch  times  he  cannot  be  thoroughly  recon- 
ciled to  his  fins.  He  may  be  parleying  with  feme  of 
them  in  an  unguarded  hour,  and  feem  to  be  negociat- 
ing  a  peace ;  but  the  truce  is  foon  ended,  and  they 
are  at  variance  again.  The  enmity  of  a  renewed  heart 
foon  rifes  againft  this  old  enemy.  And  there  is  this 
circumflance  remarkable  in  the  believer's  hatred  and 
oppofition  to  fin,  that  they  do  not  proceed  principally, 
much  lefs  entirely,  from  a  fear  of  punifhment,  but 
from  a  generous  fenfe  of  its  intrinfic  bafenefs  and  in- 
gratitude, and  its  contrariety  to  the  holy  nature  of 
God.  This  is  the  ground  of  his  hatred  to  fin,  and 
forrow  for  it ;  and  this  fhews  that  there  is  at  leafl-  a 
fpark  of  true  grace  in  his  heart,  and  that  he  does  not 
aft  altogether  from  the  low,  interefted,  and  mercenary 
principles  of  nature. 

At  fuch  times  he  is  very  jealous  of  the  fincerity  of 
his  religion,  afraid  that  all  his  paft  experiences  were 
delufive,  and  afraid  that,  if  he  fhould  die  in  his  pre- 
fent  flate,  he  would  be  for  ever  miferable.  A  very 
anxious  ftate  is  this  !  The  ftupid  world  can  lie  fecure 
while  this  grand  concern  lies  in  the  moft  dreadful  fuf- 
pence.  But  the  tender-hearted  believer  is  not  capable 
of  fuch  fool-hardinefs:  he  fhudders  at  the  thought  of 
everlafting  feparation  from  that  God  and  Saviour 
whom  lie  loves.     He  loves  him,  and  therefore  the 

fear 


244  The  Compajfion  of  Chrifi  Serm.  8. 

fear  of  feparation  from  him,  fills  him  with  all  the 
anxiety  of  bereaved  love.  Tiiis  to  him  is  the  moft 
painful  ingredient  of  the  punifhment  of  hell.  Hell 
would  be  a  fevenfold  hell  to  a  lover  of  God,  becaufe 
it  is  a  ftate  of  banirtiment  from  him  whom  he  loves. 
He  could  for  ever  languifli  and  pine  away  under  the 
confuming  di!l:reffes  of  widowed  love,  which  thofe 
that  love  him  not  cannot  feel.  And  has  God  kindled 
t]\Q  facred  flame  in  his  heart  in  order  to  render  him 
capable  of  the  more  cxquifite  pain  }  Will  he  exclude 
irom  his  prefence  the  poor  creature  that  clings  to  him, 
and  languiflies  for  him  }  No,  the  flax  that  does  but 
fmoke  with  his  love  was  never  intended  to  be  fuel  for 
hell ;  but  he  v/iU  blow  it  up  into  a  flame,  and  nourifh 
it  till  it  mingles  with  the  feraphic  ardors  in  the  region 
of  perfed  love. 

The  v/eak  believer  feems  fometimes  driven  by  the 
tempers  of  lull  and  temptation  from  off  the  rock 
Jefus  Chrifi:.  But  he  makes  towards  it  on  the  ftormy 
billows,  and  labours  to  lay  hold  upon  it,  and  recover 
his  ftation  there;  for  he  is  feniible  there  is  no  other 
foundation  of  fafety,  but  that  without  Chrifi  he  mufl 
perifh  for  ever.  It  is  the  habitual  difpofition  of  the 
believer's  foul  to  depend  upon  Jefus  Chrifi  alone.  He 
retains  a  kind  of  diredion  or  tendency  towards  him, 
like  the  needle  touched  with  the  load-flone  towards 
the  pole  \  and,  if  his  heart  is  turned  from  its  courfe, 
it  trembles  and  quivers  till  it  gains  its  favourite  point 
again,  and  fixes  there.  Sometimes  indeed  a  confci- 
oufnefs  of  guilt  renders  him  fliy  of  his  God  and  Savi- 
our ;  and  after  fuch  bafe  ingratitude  he  is  afhamed  to 
go  to  him  :  but  at  length  neceffity  as  well  as  inclina- 
tion conftrains  him,  and  he  is  obliged  to  cry  out,  hord^ 
to  ivhom  Jhall  I  go^  thou  hafi  the  words  of  eternal  life. 
John  vi.  68.  "  In  thee  alone  1  find  refl  to  my  foul ; 
and  therefore  to  thee  I  muil  fly,  though  I  am  afhamed 
and  confounded  to  appear  in  thy  prefence." 

In  fhort,  the  weakeft  chriflian  upon  earth  fenfibly 
feels  that  his  comfort  rifes  and  falls,  as  he  lives  nearer 

to 


Serm.  8.  to  weak  Believers.  245 

to  or  farther  from  his  God.  The  love  of  God  has 
fuch  an  habitual  predominancy  even  in  his  heart,  that 
nothing  in  the  world,  nor  even  all  the  world  together 
can  fill  up  his  place.  No,  when  he  is  gone,  heaven 
and  earth  cannot  replenifh  the  mj.-hty  void.  Even 
the  weakeft  chriftian  upon  earth  lotigs  to  be  delivered 
from  fin,  from  all  (xn  without  exception  •,  and  a  body 
of  death  hanging  about  him  is  the  burden  of  his  life. 
Even  the  poor  jealous  languifhing  chriftian  has  his 
hope,  all  the  little  hope  that  he  has,  built  upon  Jefus 
Chrift.  Even  this  fmoking  flax  fends  up  fome  exha- 
lations of  love  towards  heaven.  Even  the  poor  crea- 
ture that  often  fears  he  is  altogether  a  Have  to  fin, 
honeftly,  though  feebly,  labours  to  be  holy,  to  be 
holy  as  an  angel,  yea,  to  be  holy  as  God  is  holy.  He 
has  an  heart  that  feels  the  atlraftive  charms  of  holi- 
nefs,  and  he  is  fo  captivated  by  it,  that  fin  can  never 
recover  its  former  place  in  his  heart :  no,  the  tyrant  is 
for  ever  dethroned,  and  the  believer  would  rather  die 
than  yield  himfelf  a  tame  flave  to  the  ufi.irped  tyranny 
again. 

Thus  I  have  delineated  to  you  in  the  plaineft  man- 
ner I  could,  the  chara(51;er  of  a 'weak  chriftian.  Some 
of  you  I  am  afraid  cannot  lay  claim  even  to  this  low 
charader.  If  (o^  you  may  be  fure  you  are  not  true 
chriftians,  even  of  the  loweft  rank.  You  may  be  fure 
you  have  not  the  leaft  fpark  of  true  religion  in  your 
hearts,  but  are  utterly  deftitute  of  it. 

But  fome  of  you,  I  hope,  can  fay,  "  Well,  after 
all  my  doubts  and  fears,  if  this  be  the  charader  of  a 
true,  though  weak  chriftian,  then  I  mav  humbly  hope 
that  I  am  one.  I  am  indeed  confirmed  in  it  that  I  am 
lefs  than  the  leaft  of  all  other  faints  upon  the  face  of 
the  earth,  but  yet  I  fee  that  I  am  a  faint ;  for  thus  has 
my  heart  been  exercifed,  even  in  my  dark  and  Ian-  , 
guifiiing  hours.  This  fecrct  uneannefs  and  pining 
anxiety,  this  thirft  for  God,  for  the  living  God,  this 
tendency  of  foul  towards  Jefus  Chrift,  this  implacable 
enmity  to  fin,  this  panting  and  ftruggling after  holinefs ; 

thefe" 


246  The  Compajfion  of  Chriji  Serm.  8I 

thefe  things  liave  I  often  felt."  And  have  you  in- 
deed ?  then  away  with  your  doubts  and  jealoufies } 
away  with  your  fears  and  defpondencies  !  There  is 
at  leaft  an  immortal  fpark  kindled  in  your  hearts, 
which  the  united  power  of  men  and  devils,  of  fin  and 
temptation,  Hiall  never  be  able  to  quench.  No,  it 
fhall  yet  rife  into  a  flame,  and  burn  with  feraphic  ar- 
dors for  ever. 

For  your  farther  encouragement  I  proceed, 

II.  To  illuftrate  the  care  and  compaffion  of  Jefus 
Chrift  for  fuch  poor  weaklings  as  you. 

This  may  appear  a  needlefs  tafk  to  fome  -,  for  who 
is  there  that  does  not  believe  it  ^  But  to  fuch  would 
I  fay,  it  is  no  eafy  thing  to  eftablifh  a  trembling  foul 
in  the  full  belief  of  this  truth.  It  is  eafy  for  one  that 
does  not  fee  his  danger,  and  does  not  feel  his  extreme 
need  of  falvation,  and  the  difficulty  of  the  work,  to 
believe  that  Chrift  is  willing  and  able  to  fave  him. 
But  O  !  to  a  poor  foul,  deeply  fenfible  of  its  condition, 
this  is  no  eafy  matter.  Befides,  the  heart  may  need 
to  be  more  deeply  affeded  with  this  truth,  though  the 
underftanding  fliould  need  no  farther  arguments  of  the 
fpeculative  kind  for  its  conviftion  ;  and  to  imprefs  this 
truth  is  my  prefentdefign. 

For  this  purpofe  I  need  but  read  and  paraphrafe  to 
you  a  few  of  the  many  kind  declarations  and  aflurances 
which  Jefus  has  given  us  in  his  word,  and  relate  the 
happy  experiences  of  fome  of  his  faints  there  recorded, 
who  found  him  true  and  faithful  to  his  word. 

The  Lord  Jefus  feems  to  have  a  peculiar  tendernefs 
for  the  poor,  the  mourners,  the  broken-hearted  j  and 
thefe  are  peculiarly  the  objeds  of  his  mediatorial  office. 
The  Lord  hath  anointed  me,  fays  he,  to  preach  good  tid- 
ings to  the  meek  -,  he  hath  fent  me  all  the  way  from  my 
native  heaven  down  to  earth,  upon  this  compaffionate 
errand,  to  bind  up  the  broken-hearted,  to  appoint  unto 
them  that  mourn  in  Zion,  to  give  unto  them  beauty  for 
afhes,  the  oil  of  joy  for  mourning,  the  garment  of  praife 
for  the  fpirit  of  heavinefs.  I  fa.  Ixi.  i — 3.     Thus  faith 

the 


Serm.  8.  to  weak  Believers.  247 

the  Lord^  in  ftrains  of  majefty  that  become  him,  the 
heaven  is  my  throne^  and  the  earth  is  my  footftool :  where 
is  the  houje  that  ye  build  unto  me?  and  where  is  the  place 
of  my  reji?  For  all  thefe  things  hath  my  hand  made^ 
faith  the  Lord,  Had  he  fpoken  uniformly  in  this  ma- 
jeftic  language  to  us  guilty  worms,  the  declaratiow 
might  have  overwhelmed  us  with  awe,  but  could  not 
have  infpired  us  with  hope.  But  he  advances  himfelf 
thus  high,  on  purpofe  to  let  us  fee  how  low  he  can 
ftoop.  Hear  the  encouraging  fequel  of  this  h's  ma- 
jeftic  fpeech :  To  this  man  will  I  look^  even  to  him  that 
is  poor ^  and  of  a  contrite  fpirit^  and  trembleth  at  my 
word.  Let  heaven  and  earth  wonder  that  he  will  look 
down  through  all  the  fhining  ranks  of  angels,  and 
look  by  princes  and  nobles,  to  fix  his  eye  upon  this 
man,  this  poor  man,  this  contrite,  broken-hearted, 
trembling  creature.  Ifa.  Ixvi.  i,  2.  He  loves  to  dwell 
■upon  this  fubjeft,  and  therefore  you  hear  it  again  in 
the  fame  prophecy  :  "  Thus  faith  the  high  and  lofty 
One  that  inhabiteth  eternity,  whofe  name  is  holy, — '* 
what  does  he  fay  ? — /  dwell  in  the  high  and  holy  place. 
Ifa.  Ivii.  15.  This  is  faid  in  charader.  This  is  a 
dwelling  In  fome  meafure  worthy  the  inhabitant.  But 
O  !  will  he  ftoop  to  dwell  in  a  lower  manfion,  or  pitch 
his  tent  among  mortals  ?  yes,  he  dwells  not  only  in 
his  high  and  holy  place,  but  alfo  with  him  that  is  of  a 
contrite  and  humble  fpirit,  to  revive  thefpirit  of  the  httm- 
ble,  and  to  revive  the  heart  of  the  contrite  ones.  He 
charges  Peter  to  feed  his  lambs  as  well  as  his  fheep  ; 
that  is,  to  take  the  tendereft  care  even  of  the  weakeft 
in  his  flock.  Johnxxl,  15.  And  he'feverely  rebukes 
the  ihepherds  of  Ifrael,  Becaufe,  fays  he,  ye  have  not 
Jlrengihened  the  difeafed,  neither  have  ye  healed  that 
which  was  fick^  neither  have  ye  bound  up  that  which  was 
broken.  Ezek.  xxxiv.  4.  But  what  an  amiable  reverfe 
is  the  charafter  of  the  great  Shepherd  and  Bifiiop  of 
fouls  !  Behold,  fays  Ifaiah,  the  Lord  will  come  with  a 
Jirong  hand,  and  his  arm  fhall  rule  for  him  :  behold  his 
reward  is  with  him,  and  his  work  before  him.     How 

juftly 


24^  1'^^  Companion  of  Chrifi  Serm.  8, 

jufily  may  we  tremble  at  this  proclamation  of  the  ap- 
proaching God  !  for  who  can  ftand  when  he  appeareth  ? 
But  how  ac!;reeably  are  our  fears  difappointed  in  what 
follows !     if  he  comes  to  take  vengeance  on  his  ene- 
mies, he  alfo  comes  to  fhew  mercy  to  the  meaneft  of 
his  people.     He  Jhall  feed  his  fiock  like  a  ffjepherd :  he 
Jhall  gather  the  lambs  with  his  arm^  mid  carry  them  in 
his  bofora^  andfljall  gently  lead  thofe  that  are  with  young ; 
Ifa.  xl.  lo,  II.  that  is,  he  fhall  exercife  the  tendered 
and  moft  companionate  care  towards  the  meaneil  and 
weakeft  of  his  flock.  He  looked  down^  fays  the  Pfalmift, 
from  the  height  of  his  fanStuary  \  from  heaven  did  the 
Lord  behold  the  earth  \  not  to  view  the  grandeur  and 
pride  of  courts  and  kings,  nor  the  heroic  exploits  of 
conquerors,  but  to  hear  the  groaning  of  the  pr  if  oner  ^  to 
ioofe  thofe  that  are  appointed  to  die.     He  will  regard  the 
prayer  of  the  dcftitute^  and  not  defpife  their  prayer.  This 
foa.ll  be  written  for  the  generation  to  come.  Pfalm  cii. 
1  -7 — 20.     It  was  written  for  your  encouragement,  my 
brethren.     Above  three  thoufand  years  ago  this  en- 
couraging paflage  was  entered  into  the  facred  records 
for  the  fupport  of  poor  defponding  fouls  in  Virginia, 
in  the  ends  of  the  earth.     O  what  an  early  provident 
care  does  God  fnew  for  his  people  !     There  arc  none 
of  the  feven  churches  of  Alia  fo  highly  commended 
by  Chrift   as   that  of  Philadelphia-,  and  yet  in  com- 
mending her,  all  he  can  fay  is,  "  Thou  hail  a  little 
ftrength."     I  know  thy  works  •,  behold  I  have  fet  before 
thee  an  open  door,  and  no  man  can  flmt  it,  for  thou  hafl 
a  little  firength.  Rev.  iii.  8.     O  how  acceptable  is  a 
little  ftrength  to  Jefus  Chrift,  and  how  ready  is  he  to 
improve  it !     He  giveth  power  to  the  faint,  fays  Ifaiah, 
and  to  them  that  have  no  might  he  increafetJ^flrength. 
Ifa.  xl.  29.     Hear  farther  what  words  of  grace  and 
truth  flowed  from  the  lips  of  Jefus :  Come  unto  me  all 
ye  that  labour  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  1  will  give  you 
reft ;  for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  in  heart.  Matt.  xi.  28,  29. 
Him  that  cometh  unto  me,  I  will  in  no  wife  caft  out.  John 
vi.  57.     If  any  man  thirfr,  let  him  come  unto  me  and 

drink. 


Serm.  8.  to  iveak  Believers.  24^' 

drink.  John  vii.  37.  Let  him  that  is  athirfi  come-,  and 
zvhofoever  will',  let  him  come  and  take  of  the  water  of 
life  freely.  Rev.  xxii.  17.  O  what  ftrong  confolatlon 
is  here  !  what  exceeding  great  and  precious  promifes 
are  thefe  !  I  might  eafily  add  to  the  catalogue,  but 
thefe  may  fuffice. 

Let  us  now  fee  how  his  people  in  every  age  have 
ever  found  thefe  promifes  made  good.  Here  David 
may  be  confulted,  inflar  cmmium.,  and  he  will  tell  you,, 
pointing  to  himfelf,  This  poor  man  cried.,  and  the  Lord 
beard  and  delivered  him  out  of  all  his  trpubles.  Pfalm 
xxxiv.  6.  St.  Paul,  in  the  midil  of  afflidion,  calls 
God  the  Father  of  mercies.,  and  God  of  all  comfort,  who 
comfort eth  us  in  all  our  tribulation.  2  Cor.  i.  3,  4.  God., 
fays  he,  that  ccmforteth  thofe  that  are  cafi  down,  com- 
fortethus.  2  Cor.  vii.  6.  What  a  fweetly  emphatical 
declaration  is  this  !  "  God  the  comforter  of  the  hum- 
ble, comforted  us*."  He  is  not  only  the  Lord  of 
hofts,  the  King  of  kings,  the  Creator  of  the  world, 
but  among  his  more  auguft  charad:ers  he  afiumes  this 
title,  "  The  Comforter  of  the  humble.'*  Such  Saint 
Paul  found  him  in  an  hour  of  temptation,  when  he 
had  this  fupporti^g  anfwer  to  his  repeated  praver  for 
deliverance,  My  grace  is  fufficient  for  thee ;  for  my 
firength  is  made  perfect  in  weaknefs.  2  Cor.  xii.  9.  Since 
this  was  the  cafe,  fince  his  weaknefs  was  more  than 
fupplied  by  the  ftrength  of  Chrift,  and  was  a  foil  td 
fet  it  off,  St.  Paul  feems  quite  regardlefs  what  infir- 
mities he  laboured  under.  Nay,  mofi  gladly,  fays  he, 
will  I  rather  glory  in  7ny  infirmities,  that  the  power  of 
Chrift  may  reft  upon  me.  Therefore  I  take  pleafure  in  in- 
firmities— for  when  1  am  weak,  then  am  Ifirong.  He 
could  take  no  pleafure  in  feeling  himfelf  v/eak;  but 
the  mortification  was  made  up  by  the  pleafure  he  found 
m  leaning  upon  this  almighty  fupport.  His  wounds 
were  painful  to  him  •,  but,  O  !  the  pleafure  he  found 
m  feeling  this  divine  phyfician  dreffing  his  wounds, 

Kk  .  in 

*  This  is  a  more  literal  tranflat'ion  of— 0'  w»p«x«A«ti  Tsr  ra^rtis? 


2  §0      Compaffion  of  Chriji  to  weak  Believers.     Serm .  ?. 

hi  fome  meafure  fwallowed  up  the  pain.  It  was  pro- 
bably experience,  as  well  as  infpiration,  that  dilated 
to  the  apoftle  that  amiable  charader  of  Chrift,  that  he 
is  a  merciful  and  faithful  high-priefr^  who  being  himfelf 
tempted.)  knows  how  to  fuccour  them  that  are  tempted, 
Heb.  ii.  17,  I'i.  And  we  have  not  an  high-priejl  which 
cannot  be  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities., 
but  was  in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we  are^  yet  without 
fin.  Heb.  iv.  15. 

But  why  need  I  multiply  arguments  ?  Go  to  his 
crofs,  and  there  learn  his  love  and  compaflion,  from 
his  groans  and  wounds,  and  blood,  and  death.  Would 
he  hang  there  in  fuch  agony  for  finners  if  he  werencc 
willing  to  fave  them,  and  cherilli  every  good  principle 
in  them  ?  There  you  may  have  much  the  fame  evi- 
dence of  his  companion  as  Thomas  had  ot  his  refur- 
reftion  •,  you  may  look  into  his  hands,  and  fee  the 
print  of  the  nails  j  and  into  his  fide,  and  fee  the  fear 
of  the  fpear;  which  loudly  proclaim  his  readinefs  to 
pity  and  help  you. 

And  now,  poor  trembling  doubting  fouls,  what 
hinders  but  you  ihould  raife  up  your  drooping  head, 
and  take  courage  ?  May  you  not  venture  your  fouls 
into  fuch  corapafilonate  and  faithful  hands  .?  Why 
fhould  the  bruifed  reed  Ihrink  from  him,  when  he 
comes  not  to  tread  it  down,  but  raife  it  up  ? 

As  I  am  really  folicitous  that  impenitent  hearts 
among  us  fhould  be  pierced  with  the  medicinal  anguifh 
and  forrow  of  convidion  and  repentance,  and  the  moft 
friendly  heart  cannot  form  a  kinder  wifli  for  them,  fo 
1  am  truly  folicitous  that  every  honeft  foul,  in  which 
there  is  the  leafl  fpark  of  true  piety,  fhould  enjoy  the 
pleafure  of  it.  It  is  indeed  to  be  lamented  that  they 
who  have  a  title  to  fo  much  happinefs  fnould  enjoy  fo 
little  of  it;  it  is  very  incongruous  that  they  fhould 
go  bowing  the  head  in  their  v/ay  towards  heaven,  as 
if  they  were  haitening  to  the  place  of  execution,  and 
that  they  fhould  ferve  fo  good  a  mafter  with  fuch  heavy 
hearts.     O  lift  up  the  hands  that  hang  down,  and 

ftrengtlivii 


Serm .  9 .    Connexion  between  Holinefs  and  Felicity.    2-5 1 

ftrengthen  the  feeble  knees !  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my 
people,  faith  your  God.  Beflrcngin  the  Lord,  and  in 
the  power  of  his  r,iight.  Trull:  in  your  all-fufficient 
Redeemer,  truft  in  him  though  he  fliould  flay  you. 

And  do  not  indulge  cauielefs  doubts  and  fears  con- 
cerning  your  fincerity.  When  they  ariie  in  your  minds 
examine  them,  and  fearch  whether  there  be  any  fufB- 
cient  reafon  for  them  -,  and  if  you  difcover  there  is 
not,  then  reject  them  and  fet  them  at  defiance,  and 
entertain  your  hopes  in  fpite  of  them,  and  fay  with 
the  Pfalmift,  JVhy  art  thou  caft  down,  O  my  foul,  and 
why  art  thou  difquieted  tvithin  7ne?  Hope  thou  in  God, 
for  I  IJjall  yet  praife  him,  the  health  -of  r.iy  countenance, 
and  my  God.  Pfalm  xliii.  1 1 . 


SERMON     IX. 

The  Connexion  between  Prefent  Holinefs  and  Future 
Felicity. 


]EiEB.  xii.  14.    Follow- — holinefs;  without  which  nojnan 
floall  fee  the  Lord.. 

AS  the  human  foul  was  originally  deligned  for  the 
enjoyment  of  no  lefs  a  portion  than  the  ever- 
blefled  God,  it  was  formed  with  a  ftrong  innate  ten- 
dency towards  happinefs.  It  has  not  only  an  eager 
fondnefs  for  exiftence,  but  for  fome  good  to  render  its 
exiftence  happy.  And  the  privation  of  being  itfelf  is 
not  mare  terrible  than  the  privation  of  all  its  blefling$. 
It  is  true,  in  the  prefent  degeneracy  of  human  nature, 
this  vehement  defire  is  miferably  perverted  and  mif- 
placed:  man  feeks  his  fupreme  happinefs  infinful,  or 
at  beft  in  created  enjoyments,  forgetful  of  the  uncre- 
ated fountain  of  blifs  ;  but  yet  ftiil  he  feeks  happinefs  j 
ftill  this  innate  impetus  is  predominant,  and  though  he 
fniftakes  the  means,  yet  he  ftill  retains  a  general  aim 

4jr 


252  The  Connexion  between  Serra.  9. 

at  the  end.  Hence  he  ranfacks  this  lower  world  in 
queft  of  felicity ;  climbs  in  fearch  of  it  the  flippery 
afcent  of  honour-,  hunts  for  it  in  the  treafures  of  gold 
and  filver  -,  or  plunges  for  it  in  the  foul  ftreams  of  fen- 
fual  pleafures.  But  fince  all  the  fordid  fatisfa6tion  re- 
fulting  from  thefe  things  are  not  adequate  to  the  un- 
bounded cravings  of  the  mind,  and  iince  the  fatisfac- 
tion  is  tranfitory  and  perilliing,  or  we  may  be  wretch- 
ed from  it  by  the  inexorable  hand  of  death,  the  mind 
breaks  through  the  limits  of  the  prefent  enjoyments, 
aryd  even  of  the  lower  creation,  and  ranges  through 
the  unknown  fcenes  of  futurity  in  queft  of  fome  un- 
tried good.  Hope  makes  excurfions  into  the  dark 
duration  between  the  prefent  now  and  the  grave,  and 
forms  to  itfelf  pleafing  images  of  approaching  blef- 
iings,  which  often  vanifh  in  the  embrace,  like  delu- 
iive  phantoms.  Nay,  it  launches  into  the  vaft  un- 
known world  that  lies  beyond  the  grave,  and  roves 
through  the  regions  of  immenfity  after  fome  complete 
felicity  to  fupply  the  defedls  of  fublunary  enjoyments. 
Hence,  though  men,  till  their  fpirits  are  refined  by 
regenerating  grace,  have  no  relifh  for  celeftial  joys, 
but  pant  for  the  poor  pleafures  of  time  and  fenfe,  yet, 
as  they  cannot  avoid  the  unv/elcome  confcioufnefs  that 
death  will  ere  long  rend  them  from  thefe  fordid  and 
momentary  enjoyments,  are  conftrained  to  indulge  the 
hope  of  blifs  in  a  future  ftate  :  and  they  promife  them- 
fclves  happinefs  in  another  world  when  they  can  no 
longer  enjoy  any  in  this.  And  as  reafon  and  revela- 
tion unitedly  aflure  them  that  this  felicity  cannot  then 
confift  in  fenfual  indulgences,  they  generally  expedt  it 
will  be  of  a  more  refined  and  fpiritual  nature,  and  flow 
more  immediately  from  the  great  Father  of  fpirits. 

He  muft  indeed  be  miferable  that  abandons  all  hope 
of  this  bleflednefs.  The  chriftian  religion  affords  him 
no  other  profped  but  that  of  eternal,  intolerable  mi- 
iery  in  the  regions  of  darknefs  and  defpair  •,  and  if  he 
flies  to  infidelity  as  a  refuge,  it  can  afford  him  no  com- 
fort but  the  /hocking  profped  of  annihilation. 

Now, 


Serm.  9.  Holinefs  and  Felicity.  253 

Now,  if  men  were  prefled  into  heaven  by  an  una- 
voidable fatality,  if  happinefs  was  promifcuoufly  pro- 
mifed  to  them  all  without  diftinftion  of  charadlers, 
then  they  might  indulge  a  blind  unexamined  hope, 
and  never  perplex  themfelves  with  anxious  enquiries 
about  it.  And  he  might  juftly  be  deemed  a  malignant 
difturber  of  the  repofe  of  mankind  that  would  attempt 
to  fhock  their  hope,  and  frighten  them  with  caufelefs 
fcruples. 

But  if  the  light  of  nature  intimates,  and  the  voice 
of  fcripture  proclaims  aloud,  that  this  eternal  felicity 
is  referved  only  for  perfons  of  particular  chara6ters, 
and  that  multitudes,  multitudes  who  entertained  pleaf- 
ing  hopes  of  it,  are  confounded  with  an  eternal  dif- 
appointment,  and  fhall  fufFer  an  endlefs  duration  in 
the  moil  terrible  miferies,  we  ought  each  of  us  to  take 
the  alarm,  and  examine  the  grounds  of  our  hope,  that, 
if  they  appear  fufficient,  we  may  allow  ourfelves  a  ra- 
tional fatisfa<5tion  in  them;  and,  if  they  are  found  de- 
lufive,  we  may  abandon  them  and  feek  for  a  hope 
which  will  bear  the  tefl  nov/  while  it  may  be  obtained. 
And  however  difagreeable  the  tafk  be  to  give  our 
fellow-creatures  even  profitable  uneafinefs,  yet  he  muft 
appear  to  the  impartial  a  friend  to  the  beft  intercfts  of 
mankind,  who  points  out  the  evidences  and  founda- 
tion of  a  rational  and  fcriptural  hope,  and  expofes  the 
various  miftakes  to  which  we  are  fubjed  in  fo  impor- 
tant a  cafe. 

And  if,  when  we  look  around  us,  we  find  perfons 
full  of  the  hopes  of  heaven,  who  can  give  no  fcrip- 
tural evidences  of  them  to  themfelves  or  others  •,  if 
we  find  many  indulging  this  plealing  delufion,  whofe 
praftices  are  m>entioned  by  God  himfelf  as  the  certain 
marks  of  perilhing  finners  ;  and  if  perfons  are  fo  te- 
nacious of  thefe  hopes,  that  they  will  retain  them  to 
their  everlafting  ruin,  unlefs  the  mioft  convidlive  me- 
thods are  taken  to  undeceive  them  •,  then  it  is  high 
time  for  thofe  to  whom  the  care  of  fouls  (a  weightier 

charee 


254  ^'^^  Connexion  helwem-  Serm.  9. 

charge  than  that  of  kingdoms)  is  intrufled,  to  ufe  the 
greateft  plainnefs  for  this  purpofe. 

This  is  my  chief  defign  at  prefent,  and  to  this  my 
t-ext  naturally  leads  me.     It  contains  thefe  doftrines: 

Firft,  That  without  holinefs  here  it  is  impoffible  for 
us  to  enjoy  heavenly  happinefs  in  the  future  world. 
To  fee  the  Lord,  is  here  put  for  enjoying  him  ;  fee 
Rom.  viii.  24.  and  the  metaphor  fignifies  the  happi- 
nefs of  tlie  future  (late  in  general ;  and  more  particu- 
larly intimes  that  the  knowledge  of  God  will  be  a  fpe- 
cial  ingredient  therein.  See  a  parallel  expreffion  in 
Matt.  V.  8. 

Secondly,  That  this  confideration  fhould  induce  us 
to  ufe  the  moft  earneR:  endeavours  to  obtain  the  hea- 
venly happinefs.  Purfue  holinefs,  becaufe  without  it 
no  man  can  fee  the  Lord. 

Hence  I  am  naturally  Izi,., 

I.  To  explain  the  nature  of  that  holinefs.^  ivithout 
ivhich  no  man  Jhall  fef  the  Lord. 

II.  To  fliew  what  endeavours  fhould  be  ufed  to  ob- 
tain it.     And, 

III.  To  urge  you  to  ufe  them  by  the  confideration 
of  the  abfolute  neceffity  of  holinefs. 

I.  I  am  to  explain  the  nature  of  holinefs.  And  I 
fnall  give  you  a  brief  definition  of  it,  and  then  men- 
tion fonie  of  thofe  difpqiitions  and  praftices  which  na^ 
turally  flow  from  it. 

The  mofi:  intelligible  defcription  of  holinefs,  as  it  is 
inherent  in  us,  may  be  this,  "  It  is  a  conformity  in 
heart  and  pradlice  to  the  revealed  will  of  God."  As 
the  Supi'tme  Being  is  the  ftandard  of  all  perfedion, 
his  holinef?  in  particulr.r  is  the  ftandard  of  ours.  Then 
we  are  holy  when  his  image  is  flamped  upon  our  hearts 
and  refleded  in  our  lives  •,  fo  the  apoflle  defines  it, 
ylnd  that  ye  put  on  the  neiv  man.,  which  after  God  is 
created  in  rightcoufncfs  and  true  holincjs.  Eph.  iv.  24. 
IVhom  he  did  predefiinate  to  be  conformed  to  the  image  of 
his  Son.  Rom.  viii.  29.  Hence  holinefs  may  be  de- 
fined, "  A  conformity  to  God  in  his  moral  perfec- 
tions.'* 


Serni.  9-  Holinefs  and  Felicity.  235 

tions."  But  as  we  cannot  have  a  diftin<5t  knowledge 
of  thefe  perfetftfons  but  as  they  are  manifefted  by  the 
revealed  will  of  God,  I  choofe  to  define  holinefs,  as 
above,  "  A  conformity  to  his  revealed  will.*^  Now 
his  revealed  will  comprizes  both  the  law  and  the  gof- 
pel :  the  law  informs  us  of  the  duty  which  we  as  crea- 
tures owe  to  God  as  a  being  of  fupreme  excellency,  as 
our  Creator  and  Benefactor,  and  to  men  as  our  fellov/- 
creatures  ;  and  the  gofpel  informs  us  of  the  duty  which 
as  finners  we  owe  to  God  as  reconcileable  through  a 
Mediator.  Our  obedience  to  the  form.er  implies  the 
whole  of  morality,  and  to  the  latter  the  whole  of  evan- 
gelical graces,  as  faith  in  a  Mediator,  repentance,  &c. 

From  this  definition  of  holinefs  it  appears,  on  the 
one  hand,  that  it  is  abfolutely  necefiary  to  fee  the  Lord  -, 
for  unlefs  our  difpofitions  are  conformed  to  him,  we 
cannot  be  happy  in  the  enjoyment  of  him:  and,  on 
the  other  hand,  that  they  who  are  made  thus  holy, 
are  prepared  for  the  vifion  and  fruition  of  his  face,  as 
they  can  relifh  the  divi^eft  pleafure. 

But  as  a  concife  definition  of  holinefs  may  give  an 
auditory  but  very  imperfed  ideas  of  it,  I  fhall  expa- 
tiate upon  the  difpofitions  and  pra6tices  in  which  it 
conlifcs,  or  which  naturally  refult  from  it  j  and  they 
are  fuch  as  follow  : 

I.  A  delight  in  God  for  his  holinefs.  Self-love  may 
prompt  us  to  love  him  for  his  goodnefs  to  us  ;  and  fo 
many  unregenerate  men  may  have  a  felfifh  love  to  God 
on  this  account.  But  to  love  God  becaufe  he  is  infi- 
nitely holy,  becaufe  he  bears  an  infinite  deteitation  to 
all  fin,  and  will  not  indulge  his  creatures  in  the  neglec^t 
of  the  lead  inflance  of  holinefs,  but  commands  them 
to  be  holy  as  he  is  holy,  this  is  a  difpofition  connatural 
to  a  renewed  foul  only,  and  argues  a  conformity  to  his 
image.  Every  nature  is  moft  agreeable  to  itfelf,  and 
a  holy  nature  is  moft  agreeable  to  an  holy  nature, 

Here  I  would  make  a  remark,  which  may  God  deep- 
ly imprefs  on  your  hearts,  and  which  for  that  purpofe 
I  fhall  fubjoin  to  each  particular,  that  holinefs  in  fallen 

man 


256  The  Comic:xion  between  Serm.  9, 

man  is  fupsrnatural  -,  I  mean,  we  are  not  bom  with 
it,  we  give  no  difcoveries  of  it,  till  we  have  experi- 
enced a  great  change.  Thus  we  find  it  in  the  prefent 
cafe;  we  have  no  natural  love  to  God  becaufe  of  his 
infinite  purity  and  hatred  to  all  fin;  nay,  we  would 
love  him  more  did  he  give  us  greater  indulgences ; 
and  I  am  afraid  the  love  of  fome  perfohs  is  founded 
upon  a  miftake  •,  they  love  him  becaufe  they  imagine 
he  does  not  hate  fin,  nor  them  for  it,  fo  much  as  he 
really  does  -,  becaufe  they  think  he  will  bring  them  to 
heaven  at  laft,  let  them  live  as  they  lift;  and  becaufe 
they  do  not  expedl  he  is  fo  inexorably  juft  in  his  deal- 
ings with  the  finner.  It  is  no  wonder  they  love  fuch 
a  foft,  eafy,  pafiive  being  as  this  imaginary  deity ; 
but  did  they  fee  the  luftre  of  that  holinefs  of  God 
which  dazzles  the  celeftial  armies  ;  did  they  but  know 
the  terrors  of  his  juftice,  and  his  implacable  indigna- 
tion aga'nft  fin,  their  innate  enmity  would  fhev/  its 
poifon,  and  their  hearts  would  rife  againfl:  God  in  all 
thofe  horrible  blafphemies  with  which  awakened  finners 
are  fo  frequently  fhocked.  Such  love  as  this  is  fo  far 
from  being  acceptable,  that  it  is  the  greateft  affront  to 
the  Supreme  Being,  as,  if  a  profligate  loved  you  on 
the  miftaken  fuppofition  that  you  were  fuch  a  libertine 
as  himfelf,  it  would  rather  inflame  your  indignation 
than  procure  your  refpec5l. 

But  to  a  regenerate  mind  hov,'  Rrong,  how  tranf- 
porting  are  the  charms  of  holinefs  !  Such  a  mind  joins 
the  anthem  of  feraphs  with  the  divinefl:  complacency. 
Rev.  iv.  8.  and  anticipates  the  fongof  glorified  faints. 
Who  would  not  fear  thee^  O  Lord,  and  glorify  thy  namcy 
for  thou  only  art  holy?  Rev.  xv.  4.  The  perfeftions 
of  God  lofe  their  luftre,  or  fink  into  objec5ls  of  terror 
or  contempt,  if  this  glorious  attribute  be  abflirafted. 
Without  holinefs  power  becomes  tyranny,  omnifcience 
craft,  juftice  revenge  and  cruelty,  and  even  the  amiable 
attribute  of  goodnefs  lofes  its  charms,  and  degenerates 
into  a  blind  promifcuous  prodigality,  or  foolifh  undif- 
cerning  fondftefs  :  but  when  thefe  perfei^ions  are  cloth- 
ed- 


Serm.  9.  HoUnefs  and  Felicity.  i^f 

ed  in  the  beauties  of  holinefs,  how  Godlike,  how  rna- 
jeftic,  how  lovely  and  attractive  do  they  appear  !  and 
with  what  complacence  does  a  mind  fafhioned  after  tho 
divine  image  acquiefce  in  them  !  It  may  appear  ami- 
able even  to  an  unholy  finner  that  the  exertions  of  al- 
mighty power  fhould  be  regulated  by  the  moft  con- 
fummate  wifdom  ;  that  juftice  fhould  hot  without  dif- 
tindion  punifh  the  guilty  and  the  innocent ;  but  aa 
holy  foul  only  can  rejoice  that  divine  goodnefs  will 
not  communicate  happinefs  to  the  difgrace  of  holinefs; 
and  that,  rather  than  it  fliould  overflow  in  a  blind  pro- 
mifcuous  manner,  the  whole  human  race  ihould  be 
miferable.  A  felfifh  finner  has  nothing  in  view  but 
his  own  happinefs ;  and  if  this  be  obtained,  he  has 
no  anxiety  about  the  illustration  of  the  divine  purity  ; 
but  it  recommends  happinefs  itfelf  to  a  fanftified  foul, 
that  it  cannot  be  communicated  in  a  way  inconfiftent 
with  the  beauty  of  holinefs. 

2.  Holinefs  confifts  in  an  hearty  complacence  in  the 
law  of  God,  becaufe  of  its  purity.  The  law  is  the 
tranfcript  of  the  moral  perfections  of  God;  and  if  we 
love  the  original  we  fhall  love  the  copy.  Accordingly 
it  is  natural  to  a  renewed  mind  to  love  the  divine  law, 
becaufe  it  is  perfectly  holy;  becaufe  it  makes  no  al- 
lowance for  the  leaft  fin,  and  requires  every  duty  that 
it  becomes  us  to  perform  towards  God.  Pfalm  cxix. 
140.  and  xix.  7 — 10.  Romans  vii.  12,  compared 
with  22. 

But  is  this  our  natural  difpofition  ?  Is  this  the  dif*- 
pofition  of  the  generality  ?  Do  they  not,  on  the  con- 
trary, fecretly  find  fault  with  the  law,  becaufe  it  is  fo 
ftriCt  ?  And  their  common  objection  againft  that  holi- 
nefs of  life  which  it  enjoins  is,  that  they  cannot  bear  to 
be  fo  precife.  Hence  they  are  always  for  abating  the 
rigour  of  the  law,  for  bringing  it  down  to  fome  ima- 
ginary ftandard  of  their  own,  to  their  prefent  ability, 
to  fins  of  practice  without  regard  to  the  finful  difpofi- 
tions  of  the  heart;  or  to  the  prevailing  difpofitions 
of  the  heart  without  regard  to  the  firft  workings  of 

L  1  concu- 


25^  '^^^  Connexion  between  Scrm.  9,' 

concuplfcence,  thofe  embryos  of  iniquity  •,  and  if  they 
love  the  law  at  all,  as  they  profefs  to  do,  it  is  upon 
iuppofition  that  it  is  not  fo  ftri<5t  as  it  really  is,  but 
grants  them  greater  indulgences.  Rom.  vii.  7. 

Hence  it  appears  that,  if  we  are  made  holy  at  all, 
it  mud:  be  by  a  fupernatural  change ;  and  when  that  is 
efFedled,  what  a  ftrange  and  happy  alteration  does  the 
finner  perceive  ?  with  what  pleaiure  does  he  refign 
himfelf  a  willing  fubjed  to  that  law  to  which  he  was 
once  fo  averfe  ?  And  when  he  fails  (as,  alas  !  he  does 
in  many  things)  how  is  he  humbled  !  he  does  not  lay 
the  fault  upon  the  law  as  requiring  impoffibilities,  but 
lays  the  whole  fault  upon  himfelf  as  a  corrupt  finner. 

3.  Holinefs  confifts  in  an  hearty  complacence  in  the 
gofpel-method  of  falvation,  becaufe  it  tends  to  illuftrate 
the  moral  perfedions  of  the  Deity,  and  to  difcover  the 
beauties  of  holinefs. 

The  gofpel  informs  us  of  two  grand  pre-requifites 
ta  the  falvation  of  the  fallen  fons  of  men,  namely. 
The  fatisfadion  of  divine  juftice  by  the  obedience  and 
paffion  of  Chrift,  that  God  might  be  reconciled  to 
them  confiftendy  with  his  perfections  •,  and  the  fanc- 
tification  of  finners  by  the  efficacy  of  the  Holy  Ghoft, 
that  they  might  be  capable  of  enjoying  God,  and  that 
he  might  maintain  intimate  communion  with  them 
without  any  ftain  to  his  holinefs.  Thefe  two  grand 
articles  contain  the  fubftance  of  the  gofpel  -,  and  our 
acquiefcence  in  them  is  the  fubftance  of  that  evange- 
lical obedience  which  it  requires  of  us,  and  which  is 
eflential  to  holinefs  in  a  fallen  creature. 

Now,  it  is  evident,  that  without  either  of  thefe  the 
moral  perfe6lions  of  the  Deity,  particularly  his  holi- 
nefs, could  not  be  illuftrated,  or  even  fecured  in  the 
falvation  of  a  finner.  Had  he  received  an  apoftate 
race  into  favour,  who  had  confpired  in  the  moft  un- 
natural rebellion  againft  him,  without  any  fatisfa<5tion, 
his  holinefs  would  have  been  eclipfed;  it  would  not 
have  appeared  that  he  had  fo  invincible  an  abhorrence 
of  fiHj  fo  zsalous  a  regard  for  the  vindication  of  his 

own 


Serm.  9-  Holinefs  and  Felicity.  25^ 

own  holy  law,  or  to  his  veracity,  which  had  threaten- 
ed condign  punifhment  to  offenders.  But  by  the  fa- 
tisfadlron  of  Chrift,  his  holinefs  is  illuftrated  in  the 
moft  confpicuous  manner ;  now  it  appears,  that  God 
would  upon  no  terms  fave  a  fmner  but  that  of  adequate 
fatisfadion,  and  that  no  other  was  fufficient  but  the 
fuffering  of  his  co-equal  Son,  otherwife  he  would  not 
have  appointed  him  to  fuftain  the  charadler  of  Medi- 
ator ;  and  now  it  appears  that  his  hatred  of  fin  is  fuch 
that  he  would  not  let  it  pafs  unpunifried  even  in  his 
own  Son,  wh^n  only  imputed  to  him.  In  like  manner^ 
if  fmners,  while  unholy,  were  admitted  into  commu- 
nion with  God  in  heaven,  it  would  obfcure  the  glory 
of  his  holinefs,  and  it  would  not  then  appear  that  fuch 
was  the  purity  of  his  nature  that  he  could  have  no  fel- 
lov/fhip  with  fin.  But  now  it  is  evident,  that  even 
the  blood  of  Immanuel  cannot  purchafe  heaven  to  be 
enjoyed  by  a  finner  while  unholy,  but  that  every  one 
that  arrives  at  heaven  muft  firft  be  fan(5lified.  An  un- 
holy finner  can  be  no  more  faved,  while  fuch,  by  the 
gofpel  than  by  the  law;  but  here  lies  the  difference, 
that  the  gofpel  makes  provifion  for  his  fandlification, 
which  is  gradually  carried  on  here,  and  perfedled  at 
death,  before  his  admiffion  into  the  heavenly  glory. 

Now  it  is  the  genius  of  true  holinefs  to  acquiefce  in 
both  thefe  articles.  A  fanftified  foul  places  all  its  de- 
pendence on  the  righteoufnefs  of  Chrift  for  acceptance. 
It  would  be  difagreeable  to  it  to  have  the  leaft  concur- 
rence in  its  own  juftification.  It  is  not  only  willing, 
but  delights  to  renounce  all  its  own  righteoufnefs,  and 
to  glory  in  Chrift  alone.  Phil.  iii.  3.  Free  grace  to 
fuch  fouls  is  a  charming  theme,  and  falvation  is  more 
acceptable,  becaufe  conveyed  in  this  way.  It  would 
render  heaven  itfelf  difagreeable,  and  wither  all  its 
joys,  were  they  brought  thither  in  a  way  that  degrades 
or  does  not  illuftrate  the  glory  of  God's  holinefs  ;  but 
O  how  agreeable  the  thought,  that  he  that  glorieth 
muft  glory  in  the  Lord,  and  that  the  pride  of  all  flefh 
ihall  be  abafed ! 

So 


::6o  The  Connexion  between  Serm.  9. 

So  an  holy  perfon  rejoices  that  the  way  of  holinefs 
is  the  appointed  way  to  heaven.  He  is  not  forced  to 
be  holy  merely  by  the  fervile  confideration  that  he  muft 
be  fo  or  periih,  and  fo  unwillingly  fubmits  to  the  ne- 
celhty  which  he  cannot  avoid,  when  in  the  mean  time, 
were  it  put  to  his  choice,  he  would  choofe  to  referve 
forne  fins,  and  negleft  fome  painful  duties.  So  far 
from  this,  that  he  delights  in  the  gofpel-conftitution, 
becaufe  it  requires  univerfal  holinefs,  and  heaven 
would  be  lefs  agreeable,  were  he  to  carry  even  the  leaft 
iin  thither.  He  thinks  it  no  hardfhip  that  he  muft 
deny  himfelf  in  his  finful  pleafures,  and  habituate  him- 
{^\i  to  fo  much  ftridnefs  in  religion  •,  no,  but  he  blef- 
fes  the  Lord  for  obliging  him  to  it,  and  where  he 
fails  he  charges  himfelf  with  it,  and  is  felf-abafed  upon 
the  account. 

This  is  folid  rational  religion,  fit  to  be  depended 
upon,  in  oppolition  to  the  antinomian  licentloufnefs, 
the  freaks  of  enthufiafm,  and  the  irrational  flights  of 
pafTion  and  imagination  on  the  one  hand  ;  and  in  oppo- 
iition  to  formality,  mere  morality,  and  the  felf-fprung 
religion  of  natu-re  on  the  other.  And  is  it  not  evi- 
dent we  are  deftitute  of  this  by  nature  ?  Men  natu- 
rally are  averfe  to  this  gofpcl-method  of  falvation  ; 
they  will  not  fubmit  to  the  righteoufnefs  of  God,  but 
•fix  their  dependence,  in  part  at  leaft,  upon  their  own 
merit.  Their  proud  hearts  cannot  bear  the  thought 
that  all  their  performances  muft  go  for  juft  nothing  in 
their  juftification.  They  are  alfo  averfe  to  the  v/ay  of 
holinefs  j  hence  they  will  either  abandon  the  expedla- 
tion  pf  heaven,  and,  fince  they  cannot  obtain  it  in 
their  finful  ways,  defperately  conclude  to  go  on  in  fin 
come  what  v,/ill-,  or,  with  all  the  litde  fophiftry  they 
are  capable  of,  they  will  endeavour  to  widen  the  way 
to  heaven,  and  perfuade  themfelves  they  Ihall  attain 
it,  notwithftanding  their  continuance  in  fome  known 
iniquity,  and  though  their  hearts  have  never  been 
thoroughly  fan(5lified.  Alas  !  how  evident  is  this  all 
v^rcund  us !     How  many  either  give  up  their  hopes  of 

heaven 


Serm.  9.  Holinefs  and  Pelicily.  261 

heaven  rather  than  part  with  fin,  or  vainly  hold  them, 
while  their  difpoiitions  and  practices  prove  them 
groundlefs  ?  And  muft  not  fuch  degenerate  creatures 
be  renewed  ere  they  can  be  holy,  or  fee  the  Lord  ? 

4.  Holinefs  confifts  in  an  habitual  delight  in  all  the 
duties  of  holinefs  towards  God  and  man,  and  an  earnefl 
defire  for  communion  with  God  in  them.  This  is  the 
natural  refult  of  all  the  foregoing  particulars.  If  we 
Jove  God  for  his  holinefs,  we  fhall  delight  in  that  fer- 
vice  in  which  our  conformity  to  him  conhils  •,  if  we 
love  his  law,  we  fhall  delight  in  that  obedience  which 
it  enjoins  -,  and  if  we  take  complacence  in  the  evange- 
lical method  of  falvation,  we  fhall  take  delight  in  that 
holinefs,  without  which  we  cannot  ei\joy  it.  The  (qt- 
vice  of  God  is  the  element,  the  pleafure  of  an  holy 
foul ;  while  others  delight  in  the  riches,  the  honours, 
or  the  pleafures  of  this  world,  the  holy  foul  defires  one 
thing  of  the  Lord,  that  it  may  behold  his  beauty  while 
enquiring  in  his  temple.  Pfalm  xxvii.  4.  Such  a  per- 
fon  delights  in  retired  converfe  with  heaven,  in  medi- 
tation and  prayer.  Pfalm  cxxxix.  17.  and  Ixiii.  5,  6. 
and  Ixxiii.  28.  He  alfo  takes  pleafure  in  juftice,  be- 
nevolence, and  charity  towards  men,  Pfalm  cxii.  5,  9. 
and  in  the  flrideil  temperance  and  fobriety.  i  Cor,  ix. 
27. 

Moreover,  the  mere  formality  of  performing  reli- 
gious duties  does  not  fatisfy  the  true  laint,  unlefs  he 
enjoys  a  divine  freedom  therein,  receives  communica- 
tions of  grace  from  heaven,  and  finds  his  graces  quick- 
ened. Pfalm  xlii.  1,2. 

This  confideration  alfo  fhews  us  that  holinefs  in  us 
muil:  be  fupernatural ;  for  do  we  naturally  thus  delight 
in  the  fervice  of  God  ?  or  do  you  all  now  thus  delight 
in  it  ?  is  it  not  rather  a  wearinefs  to  ycj,  and  do  you 
not  find  more  pleafures  in  other  things  ?  Surely  you 
muft  be  changed,  or  you  can  have  no  relifli  for  the  en- 
joyment of  heavenly  happinefs. 

5.  To  conftitute  us  faints  indeed  there  muft  be  uni- 
yerfal  holinefs  in  pradice.    This  naturally  follows  from 

the 


£•6^2  ^he  Connexion  betwcm  Serm.  9; 

t\iQ  hu,  for  as  the  body  obeys  the  ftronger  volitions 
of  the  will,  fo  v/hen  the  heart  is  prevailingly  difpofed 
to  the  fervice  of  God,  the  man  will  habitually  pradife 
it.  This  is  generally  mentioned  in  fcripture  as  the 
grand  charaderiftic  of  real  religion,  without  which  all 
our  prctenfions  are  vain,  i  John  iii.  3 — 10.  and  v.  3. 
John  XV.  14.  True  chrlftians  are  far  from  being  per- 
fed  in  pradice,  yet  they  are  prevailingly  holy  in  all 
manner  of  converfation  ;  they  do  not  live  habitually  in 
any  one  known  fin,  or  wilfully  negled:  any  one  known 
duty.  Pfalm  cxix.  6. 

Without  this  pradical  holinefs  no  man  fhall  fee  the 
Lord  >  and  it  fo,  how  great  a  change  muft  be  wrought 
on  moft  before  they  can  fee  him,  for  how  few  are  thus 
adorned  with  a  life  of  univerfal  holinefs  ?  Many  pro- 
fefs  tilt  name  of  Chriil:,  but  how  few  of  them  depart 
from  iniquity  ^  But  to  what  purpofe  do  they  call  him 
Mafter  and  Lord,  while  they  do  not  the  things  which 
he  commands  them } 

Thus  I  have,  as  plainly  as  I  could,  defcribed  the  na- 
ture and  properties  of  that  holinefs,  without  v/hich  no 
man  fhall  fee  the  Lord ;  and  they  who  are  poflefTed  of 
it  may  lift  up  their  heads  with  joy,  afTured  that  God 
has  begun  a  good  work  in  them,  and  that  he  will  carry 
it  on  ;  and  on  the  other  hand,  they  that  are  deflitute 
of  it  may  be  afilired,  that,  unlefs  they  are  made  new- 
creatures,  they  cannot  fee  the  Lord.     I  come, 

II.  To  ihew  you  the  endeavours  we  fhould  ufe  to 
obtain  this  holinefs.     And  they  are  fuch  as  thefe : 

I.  Endeavour  to  know  whether  you  are  holy  or  not 
by  clofe  examination.  It  is  hard  indeed  for  fome  to 
know  pofitively  that  tliey  are  holy,  as  they  are  per- 
plexed with  the  appearances  of  realities,  and  the  fears 
of  counterfeits;  but  it  is  then  eafy  for  many  to  con- 
clude negatively  that  they  are  not  holy,  as  they  have 
not  the  likenefs  of  it.  To  determine  this  point  is  of 
great  ufe  to  our  fuccefsful  feeking  after  holinefs.  That 
an  unregener<^te  finner  fhould  attend  on  the  means  of 
grace  with  ether  aims  than  one  that  has  reafon  to  be- 
lieve 


Serm.  9«  Holinefs  and  Felicity.  26^ 

lleve  himfelf  fandtified,  is  evident.  The  anxieties, 
forrows,  defires,  and  endeavouis  of  the  one  fhould 
run  in  a  very  different  channel  from  thofe  of  the  other. 
The  one  fhould  look,  upon  himfelf  as  a  guilty  and 
condemned  (inner  •,  the  other  ihould  allow  himfelf  the 
pleafure  of  a  juftified  ftate  :  the  one  fliould  purfue  after 
the  implantation  -,  the  other  after  the  increafe  of  holi- 
nefs :  the  one  fhould  indulge  a  feafonable  concern  about 
his  loft  condition  ;  the  other  repofe  an  humble  confi- 
dence in  God  as  reconciled  to  him :  the  one  fhould 
look  upon  the  threaten ings  of  God  as  his  doom  •,  the 
other  embrace  the  promifes  as  his  portion.  Hence  it 
follows  that,  while  we  are  miftaken  about  our  ftate,  we 
cannot  ufe  endeavours  after  holinefs  in  a  proper  man- 
ner. We  adl  like  a  phyfician  that  applies  medicines 
at  random,  without  knowing  the  difeafe.  It  is  a  cer- 
tain conclufion  that  the  moft  generous  charity,  under 
fcriptural  limitations,  cannot  avoid,  that  multitudes 
are  deftitute  of  holinefs,  and  ought  not  we  to  enquire 
with  proper  anxiety  whether  v/e  belong  to  that  num- 
ber ?  Let  us  be  impartial,  and  proceed  according  to 
evidence.  If  we  find  thofe  marks  of  holinefs  in  heart 
and  life  which  have  been  mentioned,  let  not  an  excef- 
five  fcrupulofity  frighten  us  from  drawing  the  happy 
conclufion :  and,  if  we  find  them  not,  let  us  exercife 
fo  much  wholefome  feverity  againft  ourfclves,  as  honeft- 
ly  to  conclude  v/e  are  unholy  finners,  and  muft  be  re- 
newed before  we  can  fee  the  Lord.  The  concluiion 
no  doubt  will  give  you  painful  anxiety ;  but  if  you 
was  my  deareft  friend,  I  could  not  form  a  kinder  wifii 
for  you  than  that  you  might  be  inceffantly  diftrcfled 
v/ith  it  till  you  are  born  again.  This  conclufion  will 
not  be  always  avoidable;  the  light  of  eternity  will 
force  you  upon  it ;  and  whether  is  it  better  to  give 
way  to  it  now,  when  it  may  be  to  your  advantage, 
or  be  forced  to  admit  it  then,  when  it  will  be  only  a 
torment  ? 

2.  Awake,  arife,  and  betake  ycurfelf  in  esrncft  to 
all  the  means  of  grace.     Your  life,  your  eternal  life 

is. 


264  The  Connexion  between  Serm.  9V 

is  concerned,  and  therefore  it  calls  for  all  the  ardor 
and  earneftnefs  you  are  capable  of  exerting.  Accuf- 
tom  yoiirfelf  to  meditation,  converfe  with  yourfelves 
in  retirement,  and  live  no  longer  ftrangers  at  home.. 
Read  the  word  of  God  and  other  good  books,  with 
diligence,  attention,  and  fdf-application.  Attend  on 
the  public  miniftrations  of  the  gofpel,  not  as  a  triflery 
but  as  one  that  fees  his  eternal  All  concerned.  Shun 
the  tents  of  fin,  the  rendezvous  of  finners,  and  aflb- 
ciate  with  thofe  that  have  experienced  the  change  you 
want,  and  can  give  you  proper  diredlions.  Proftrate 
yourfelf  before  the  God  of  heaven,  confefs  your  fin, 
implore  his  mercy,  cry  to  him  night  and  day,  and 
give  him  no  reft,  till  the  importunity  prevail,  and  yoil 
take  the  kingdom  of  heaven  by  violence. 

But  after  all,  acknowledge  that  it  is  God  that  muft 
work  in  you  boih  to  will  and  to  do,  and  that  when 
you  have  done  all  thefe  things  you  are  but  unprofitable 
fervants.  I  do  not  prefcribe  thefe  dire6lions  as  though 
thefe  means  could  efFed  holinefsin  youj  no,  they  can 
no  more  do  it  than  a  pen  can  write  without  a  hand. 
It  is  the  holy  Spirit's  province  alone  to  fandify  a  de- 
generate finner,  but  he  is  wont  to  do  it  while  we  are 
waiting  upon  him  in  the  ufe  of  thefe  means,  though 
our  bert  endeavours  give  us  no  title  to  his  grace;  but 
he  may  juftly  leave  us  after  all  in  that  ftateof  condem- 
nation and  corruption  into  which  we  have  voluntarily 
brought  ourfclves.     I  go  on, 

III.  And  laftly,  to  urge  you  to  the  ufe  of  thefe 
means  from  the  confideration  mentioned  in  the  text^ 
the  abfolute  necefilty  of  holinefs  to  the  enjoyment  of 
heavenly  happinefs. 

Here  I  would  fhew  that  holinefs  is  abfolutely  r\tct{- 
fary,  and  that  the  confideration  of  its  necefiity  may 
ftrongly  enforce  the  purfuit  of  it. 

The  neceffity  of  holinefs  appears  from  the  un- 
changeable appointment  of  heaven,  and  the  nature  of 
things. 

I.  The 


Serm.  9.  HoUnefs  and  Felicity.  265 

1 .  The  unchangeable  appointment  of  God  excludes 
all  the  unholy  from  the  kingdom  of  heaven;  fee  i 
Cor.  ix.  6.  Rev.  xxi.  27.  Pfalm  v.  4,  5.  2  Cor.  v.  17. 
Gal.  vi.  15.  It  is  moft  aftonifhing  that  many  who 
profefs  to  belie,ve  the  divine  authority  of  the  fcriptures, 
will  yet  indulge  vain  hopes  of  heaven,  in  oppofitioa 
to  the  plaineft  declarations  of  eternal  truth.  But 
though  there  were  no  pofitive  conftitution  excluding 
the  unholy  from  heaven,  yet, 

2.  The  very  nature  of  things  excludes  finners  from 
heaven  ;  that  is,  it  is  impofTible  in  the  nature  of  things, 
that,  while  they  are  unholy,  they  could  receive  happi-r 
ncfs  from  the  employments  and  entertainments  of  the 
heavenly  world.  If  thefe  confifted  in  the  affluence  of 
thofe  things  which  finners  delight  in  here;  if  its  en- 
joyments  were  earthly  riches,  pleafures  and  honours ; 
if  its  employments  were  the  amufements  of  the  pre- 
fent  life,  then  they  might  be  happy  there,  as  far  as 
their  fordid  natures  are  capable  of  happinefs.  But 
thefe  trifles  have  no  place  in  heaven.  The  felicity  of 
that  ftate  confifts  in  the  contemplation  of  the  divine 
perfedlions,  and  there  difplays  in  the  works  of  crea- 
tion, providence,  and  redemption ;  hence  is  it  d^ 
fcribed  by  feeing  the  Lord,  Matt.  v.  8.  and  as  a  {late 
of  knowledge,  i  Cor.  xiii.  10-^12.  in  the  fatisfadlion 
refulting  thence,  Pfalm  xvii.  15.  and  a  complacency 
in  God  as  a  portion,  Pililm  Ixxiii.  25,  26.  and  in  per- 
petual ferving  and  praifing  the  Lord ;  and  hence  ado- 
ration is  generally  mentioned  as  the  employ  of  all  the 
hofts  of  heaven.  '  Thefe  are  the  entertainments  of 
heaven,  and  they  that  cannot  find  fupreme  happinefs 
in  thefe,  cannot  find  it  in  heaven.  But  it  is  evident 
thefe  things  could  afford  no  fatisfadion  to  an  unholy 
perfon.  He  would  pine  away  at  the  heavenly  feaft, 
for  want  of  appetite  for  the  entertainment ;  an  holy 
God  would  be  an  objedl  of  horror  rather  than  delight 
to  him,  and  his  fervice  would  be  a  wearinefs,  as  it  is 
now.  Hence  it  appears,  that  if  we  do  not  place  our 
fupreme  delight  in  thefe  things  here,  we  cannot  be 

M  m  happy 


266     Connexion  hetv;cen  Holinefs  and  Felicity.  Serm.  9, 

happy  hereafter  -,  for  there  will  be  no  change  of  dlf- 
pofitions  In  a  future  ftate,  but  only  the  perfecftion  of 
thofe  predominant  in  us  here,  whether  good  or  evil. 
Either  heaven  muft  be  changed,  or  the  finner,  before 
he  can  be  happy  there.  Hence  alfo  if  appears,  that 
God's  excluding  fuch  from  heaven  is  no  more  an  a6fc 
of  cruelty  than  our  not  admitting  a  fick  man  to  a  feaft, 
who  has  no  relifh  for  the  entertainments  i  or  not  bring- 
ing a  blind  man  into  the  light  of  the  fun,  or  to  view  a 
beautiful  profpedt. 

We  fee  then  that  holinefs  is  abfolutely  neceiTary, 
and  what  a  great  inducement  Ihould  this  confidera- 
tion  be  to  purfue  it  ?  If  we  do  not  fee  the  Lord, 
we  fhall  never  fee  good.  We  are  cut  off  at  death 
from  all  earthly  enjoyments,  and  can  no  longer  make 
experiments  to  fatisfy  our  unbounded  delires  with 
them ;  and  we  have  no  God  to  fupply  their  room. 
We  are  banifhed  from  all  the  joys  of  heaven,  and 
how  vafl-,  how  inconceivably  vaft  is  the  lofs  !  We 
are  doomed  to  the  regions  of  darknefs  for  ever,  to 
bear  the  vengeance  of  eternal  fire,  to  feel  the  lafhes 
of  a  guilty  confcience,  and  to  fpend  an  eternal  in  an 
horrid  intimacy  with  infernal  ghofts  !  and  will  we  not 
then  rather  follow  holinefs,  than  incur  fo  dreadful  a 
doom  ?  By  the  terrors  of  the  Lord,  then  be  per- 
fuaded  to  break  off  your  fins  by  righteoufnefs,  and 
follow  holinefs ;  without  -which  no  man  fhall  fee  the 
Lord. 


SERMON 


SERMON     X. 

The  Mediatorial   Kingdom   and    Glories  of   Jefus 
ChriA. 


John  xviii.  i'].  Pilate  therefore  faid  tinto  hhn^  Art 
thou  a  King  then  ?  Jefus  anfwered.  Thou  fay  eft  that 
I  am  a  King.  To  this  end  was  I  born,  and  for  this 
caufe  came  1  into  the  worlds  that  Ifhould  bear  witnefs 
unto  the  truth. 

KINGS  and  kingdoms  are  the  moft  majeftic  founds 
in  the  language  of  mortals,  and  have  filled  the 
world  with  noife-  confufions,  and  blood,  /ince  man- 
kind firft  left  the  ftate  of  nature,  and  formed  them- 
felves  into  focieties.     The  difpmes  of  kingdoms  for 
fuperiority  have  fet  the  world  in  arms  from  age  to  age, 
and  deftroyed  or   enflaved  a  confiderable  part  of  the 
human  race  ;  and  the  conteft  is  not  yet  decided.  Our 
country  has  been  a  region  of  peace  and  tranquillity  for 
a  long  time,  but  it  has  not  been  becaufe  the  luft  of 
power  and  riches  is  extincft  in  the  worl-d,  but  becaufe 
v/e  had   no  near  neighbours,  whofe   intereft  might 
clafh  with  ours,  or  who  were  able  to  difturb  us.   The 
abfence  of  an  enemy  was  our  fole  defence.     But  now, 
when  the  colonies  of  the  fundry  European  nations 
•on  this  continent  begin  to  enlarge,  and  approach  to- 
wards  each  other,  the  fcene  is   changed :    now  en- 
croachments,  depredations,    barbarities,   and   all   the 
terrors  of  war  begin  to  furround  and  alarm  us.    Now 
our  country  is  invaded  and  ravaged,  and  bleeds  in  a 
thoufand  veins.     We  have  already,*  fo  early  in  the 
year,  received  alarm  upon  darm  :  and  vv'e  may  expert 
the  alarms  to  grow  louder  and  louder  as  the  {eafon  ad- 
vances. 

Tliefe 

*  This  fermon  was  pteached  in  Hanover,  Virginia,  May  9,  17"^. 


S5§  The  Mediatorial  Kingdom  and         Serm.  10, 

Thefe  commotions  and  perturbations  have  had  one 
good  efFedl  upon  me,  and  that  is,  they  have  carried 
away  my  thoughts  of  late  into  a  ferene  and  peaceful 
region,  a  region  beyond  the  reach  of  confufion  and 
violence  ;  I  mean  the  kingdom  of  the  Prince  of  Peace. 
And  thither,  my  brethren,  I  would  alfo  tranfport 
your  minds  this  day,  as  the  beft  refuge  from  this  boif- 
terous  world,  and  the  moft  agreeable  manfion  for  the 
lovers  of  peace  and  tranquillity.  I  find  it  advantage- 
ous both  to  you  and  myfelf,  to  entertain  you  with 
thofe  fubjeds  that  have  made  the  deepeft  impreffion 
upon  my  own  mind :  and  this  is  the  reafon  why  I 
choofe  the  prefent  fubjed.  In  my  text,  you  hear  one 
entering  a  claim  to  a  kingdom,  whom  you  would  con- 
clude, if  you  regarded  only  his  outv/ard  appearance, 
to  be  the  meanejR;  and  vileft  of  mankind.  To  hear  a 
pov/erful  prince,  at  the  head  of  a  vi6lorious  army, 
attended  with  all  the  royalties  of  his  charadef,  to 
iiear  fuch  an  one  claim  the  kingdom  he  had  acquired 
by  force  of  arms,  would  not  be  ftrange.  But  here 
the  defpifed  Nazarene,  rejefted  by  his  nation,  forfaken 
by  his  followers,  accufed  as  the  worft  of  criminals, 
ftanding  defencelcfs  at  Pilate's  bar,  juft  about  to  be 
condemned  and  hung  on  a  crofs,  like  a  malefador  and 
a  Have,  here  he  fpeaks  in  a  royal  ftile,  even  to  his 
judge,  I  am  a  King:  for  this  purpofe  was  I  born;  and 
for  this  caufe  came  I  into  the  world.  Strange  language 
indeed  to  proceed  from  his  lips  in  thefe  circumftances  ! 
But  the  truth  is,  a  great,  a  divine  perfonage  is  con- 
cealed under  this  difguife  •,  and  his  kingdom  is  of  fuch 
a  nature,  that  his  abafement  and  crucifixion  were  fo 
far  from  being  a  hindrance  to  it,  that  they  were  the 
only  way  to  acquire  it.  Thefe  fufferings  were  meri- 
torious •,  and  by  thefe  he  purchafed  his  fubjeds,  and 
A  right  to  rule  them. 

The  occafion  of  thefe  words  was  this  :  the  unbe- 
lieving Jews  were  determined  to  put  Jefus  to  death 
as  an  impoftor.  -  The  true  reafon  of  their  oppofition 
to  him  was,  that  he  had  feverely  expofed  their  hypo- 

crify, 


Sernl.  10.  Glories  of  J efus  Chrifi.  26^ 

crify,  claimed  the  charader  of  the  Meffiah,  without 
anrwering  their  expeflations  as  a  temporal  prince  and 
a  mighty  conqueror ;  and  introduced  a  new  religion, 
which  fuperfeded  the  law  of  Mofes,  in  which  they 
had  been  educated.  But  this  reafon  they  knew  would 
have  but  little  weight  with  Pilate  the  Roman  gover- 
nor, who  was  an  heathen,  and  had  no  regard  to  their 
religion.  They  therefore  bring  a  charge  of  another 
kind,  which  they  knew  would  touch  the  governor 
very  fenfibly,  and  that  was,  that  Chrift  had  fet  him- 
felf  up  as  the  King  of  the  Jews  j  which  was  treafon 
againft  Casfar  the  Roman  emperor,  under  whcfe  yoke 
they  then  were.  This  was  all  pretence  and  artifice. 
They  would  now  feem  to  be  very  loyal  to  the  emperor, 
and  unable  to  bear  with  any  claims  inconliftent  with 
his  authority  -,  whereas,  in  truth,  they  were  impatient 
of  a  foreign  government,  and  were  watching  for  any 
opportunity  to  Ihake  it  off.  And  had  Chrift  been  real- 
ly guilty  of  the  charge  they  alledged  againft  him,  he 
would  have  been  the  more  acceptable  to  them.  Had 
he  fet  himfelf  up  as  King  of  the  Jews,  in  oppofition 
to  Caefar,  and  employed  his  miraculous  powers  to 
make  good  his  claim,  the  whole  nation  would  have 
welcoQied  him  as  their  deliverer,  and  flocked  round 
his  ftandard.  But  Jefiis  came  not  to  work  a  deliver- 
ance of  this  kind,  nor  to  ereft  fuch  a  kingdom  as  they 
defired,  and  therefore  they  rejefted  him  as  an  impoftor. 
This  charge,  however,  they  bring  againft  him,  in 
order  to  carry  their  point  with  the  heathen  governor. 
They  knew  he  was  zealous  for  the  honour  and  intereft 
of  C^far  his  mafter-,  and  Tiberius,  the  then  Roman 
emperor,  was  fo  jealous  a  prince,  and  kept  fo  many 
fpies  over  his  governors  in  all  the  provinces,  that  they 
were  obliged  to  be  very  circumfpedl,  and  fhew  the 
ftrifteft  regard  for  his  rights,  in  order  to  efcape  de- 
gradation, or  a  feverer  puniftiment.  It  was  this  that 
determined  Pilate,  in  the  ftruggle  with  his  confcience, 
to  condemn  the  innocent  Jefus.  He  was  afraid  the 
Jews  v.-^ould  inform  againft  him,  as  difmiftingone  that 

fet 


27^  The  Mediatorial  KingBmn  and        Serm.  lo. 

fet  up  as  the  rival  of  Caefar ;  and  the  confequence  of 
this  he  well  knew.     Tlie  Jews  were  fenfible  of  this, 
and  therefore  they  infift    upon  this  charge,    and  at 
length  plainly  tell  him,  If  thou  let  this  man  go^  thou 
art  not  Carfares  friend.    Pilate  therefore,  who  cared  but 
Jittle  what  innovations  Chrift(hould  introduce  into  the 
Jewifli  religion,  thought  proper  to   inquire  into  this 
matter,  and  afks  him,  "  Art  thou  the  King  of  the 
Jev/s  ?"  doft  thou  indeed  claim  fuch  a  character,  which 
may  interfere  with  Ca^far's  government  ?     Jcfus  re- 
plies, A/v  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world;  as  much  as  to'' 
fay,  *'  I  do  not  deny  that  I  claim  a  kingdom,  but  it 
is  of  fuch  a  nature,  that  it  need  give  no  alarm  to  the 
kings  of  the  earth.     Their  kingdoms  are   of  this 
world,  but  mine  is  fpiritual  and  divine,*  and  therefore 
cannot  Interfere  with  theirs.     If  my  kingdom  were  of 
this  world,  like  theirs,  I  would  take  the  fame  methods 
with  them  to  obtain  and  fecure  it  -,  my  fervants  would 
fight  fcr  me,  that  I  fnould  not  be  delivered  to  the 
Jews  5  but  now,  you  fee,  I  ufe  no  fuch  means  for  my 
defence,  or  to  raife  me  to  my  kingdom :  and  therefore 
you  may  be  aflured,  my  kingdom  is  not  from  hence, 
and  can  give  the  Roman  emperor  no  umbrage  for  fuf- 
picion  or  uneafinefs."     Pilate  anfwers  to  this  purpofe  : 
Tliou  doft,  however,  fpeak  of  a  kingdom  •,  and  art 
thou  a  king  then  ?  doft  thou  in  any  fenfe  claim  that  cha- 
jacfler?     Tiie  poor  prifon^er  boldly  replies,  Thou  fay  eft 
that  I  am  a  king;  that  is,  "  Thou  haft  ftruck  upon  the 
truth :  I  am  indeed  a  king  in  a  certain  fenfe,  and  no- 
thing fhall  conftrain  me  to  renounce  the  title."    To  this 
end  was  1  horn^  and  for  this  caufe  came  I  into  the  worlds 
that  I  foould  hear  witnefs  to  the  truth;  "  particularly 
to  this  truth,  which   now  looks  fo  unlikely,  namely, 

that 

*  Domitian,  the  Roman  emperor,  being  apprchenfivc  that  Chrift's 
earthly  rclati  rs  might  claim  a  kingdom  in  his  righ?;  inquired  of 
them  concerning  the  nature  of  hi?  !<ingdom,  and  when  and  where  it 
/hould  be  let  up.  They  replied,  "  It  was  not  earthly,  but  heavenly 
and  angelical,  and   to  be   fet  up  at   the   end    of  the  world." — 'Oo 

I'd  aiuv©'fffjr,a-o(x.iirt.  Eufcb.  Eccl.  Hift.  lib.  iil.  chapk  20. 


Serm.  lo.  Glories  of  J  efus  Chriji.  271 

that  I  am  really  a  king.  I  was  born  to  a  kingdom  and 
^  crown,  and  came  into  the  world  to  take  poflefTion  of 
my  right."  This  is  that  great  confelfion  which  St. 
Paul  tells  us,  2  Tim.  vi.  13.  our  Lord  witnefled  be- 
fore Pontius  Pilate.  Neither  the  hopes  of  deliverance, 
nor  the  terrors  of  death,  could  caufe  him  to  retradl  it, 
or  renounce  his  claim. 

In  profecuting  this  fubjeft  I  intend  only  to  inquire 
into  the  nature  and  properties  of  the  kingdom  of 
Chrift.  And  in  order  to  render  my  dlfcourfe  the  more 
familiar,  and  to  adapt  it  to  the  prefcnt  ftatc  of  our 
country,  I  fhall  confider  this  kingdom  in  contraft  with 
the  kingdoms  of  the  earth,  with  which  we  are  better 
acquainted. 

The  fcriptures  reprefent  the  Lord  Jefus   under  a 
great  variety  of  characters,  which,  though  infufficient 
fully  to  reprefent  him,  yet  in  conjuntftion  affiil  us  to 
form   fuch  exalted   ideas  of  this  great  perfonage,  as 
mortals  can  reach.     He  is  a  Surety,  that  undertook 
and  paid  the  dreadful  debt  of  obedience  and  fuffering, 
which  finners  owed  to  the  divine  juftice  and  law  :  He 
is  a  Prieft,  a  great  High  Prieil,  that  once  offered  him- 
felf  as  a  facr'fic©  for  fin  ;  and  now  dwells  in  his  native 
heaven,  at  his  Father's   right  hand,  as  the  advocate 
and  intercefibr  of  his  people  :     He  is  a  Prophet,  who 
teaches  his  church  in  all  ages  by  his  word  and  fpirit : 
He  is  the  fupreme  and  univerfal  Judge,  to  whom  men 
and  angels  are  accountable;  and  his  name  is  Jefus,  a 
Saviour,  becaufe  he  faves  his  people  from  their  fins. 
Under  thefe  auguft  and  endearing  charaders  he  is  of- 
ten reprefented.     But  there  is  one   charader   under 
which  he  is  uniformly  reprefented,  both  in  the  Old  and 
New  Teftament,  and  that  is,  that  of  a  King,  a  great 
King,  invefted  with  univerfal  authority.     And  upon 
his  appearance  in  the  flefh,  all  nature,  and  efpecially 
the  gofpel-church,  is  reprefented  as  placed  under  him, 
as  his   kingdom.     Under   this   idea  the   Jews   were 
taught  by  their  prophets  to  look  for  him ;  and  it  was 
their  underftanding  thefe  predidions  of  fome  illuftri- 

ous 


272  'The  Mediatorial  Kingdom  dnd         Serm.  id- 

oiis  king  that  fhould  rife  from  the  houfe  of  David,  in 
a  literal  and  carnal  fenfe,  that  occafioned  their  unhappy- 
prejudices  concerning  the  Meffiah  as  a  fecular  prince 
and  conqueror.     Under  this  idea  the  Lord  Jefus  re- 
prefented  himfelf  while  upon  earth,  and  under  this 
idea  he  was  publifhed  to  the  world  by   his  apoftles. 
The  greateft  kings  of  the  Jewifh  nation,  particularly 
David  and  Solomon,  were  types  of  him  ;  and  many 
things  are  primarily  applied  to  them,  which  have  their 
complete  and  final  accomplifliment  in  him  alone.     It 
is  to  him  ultimately  we  are  to  apply  the  fecond  pfalm  : 
/  have  Jet  my  king^  fays  Jehovah,  upon  my  holy  bill  of 
Zion.     AJk  of  me^  and  I  will  give  thee  the  heathen  for 
thy  inheritance^  and  the  utmoji  parts  of  the  earth  for  thy 
pojfejfiott.  Pfalm  ii.  6,   8.     If  we  read   the   feventy- 
fecond  pfalm  we  fhall  eafily  perceive  that  one  greater 
than  Solomon  Is  there.     In  his  days  fljall  the  righteous 
fiourijh ;  and  abundance  of  peace  fo  long  as  the  moon  en^ 
diireth.    All  kings  fhall  fall  down  before  him  ;  all  nations 
fhall  fer-ve  him.     His  name  fhall  continue  for  ever  \  his 
name  fhall  endure  as  long  as  the  fun:  and  men  Jh  all  be 
hlefj'ed  in  him  •,  and  all  nations  fhall  call  him  blefj'ed. 
Pfalm  Ixxii.  7,  11,  17.    The  hundred  and  tenth  pfalm 
is  throughout  a  celebration  of  the  kingly  and  prieftly 
office  of  Chrift  united.     The  Lord,  fays  David,  faid 
unto  my  Lord,  unto  that  divine  perfon  who  is  my  Lord, 
and  will  alfo  be  my  Son,  fit  thou  at  my  right  hand,  m 
the  higheft  honour  and  authority,  until  I  make  thine 
enemies  thy  footfool. -^RuIq  thou  in  the  midft  of  thine 
enemies.     Thy  people  /hall  be  willing  in  the  day  of  thy 
power,  and  fubmit  to  thee  in  crowds  as  numerous  as 
the  drops  of  morning  dew.    Pfalm  ex.  i — 3.     The 
evangelical  prophet  Ifaiah  is  often  tranfported  with  the 
forefight   of  this  illuftrious  King,    and  the  glorious 
kingdom  of  his  grace :     Unto  us  a  child  is  born,  unto 
us  a  fon  is  given ;  and  the  government  fhall  be  upon  his 
fhoulder ;  and  he  faall  be  called — the  Prince  of  Peace. 
Of  the  increafe  of  his  government  and  peace  there  fhall 
be  no  end^  upon  the  throne  of  David  and  upon  his  king^ 

dom. 


^ 


Serm.  lo.  Glories  of  J  ejus  Chrifi.  273 

dom^  to  order  and  to  efiaUijh  it  with  judgment  and  with 
juftice^  from  henceforth  even  for  ever.   Ifa.  ix.  6,  7. 
This  is  he  who  is  defcribed  as  another  David  in  Eze- 
kiel's  prophecy,  "Thus  faith  the  Lord^  I  zviil  take  the 
children  of  Ifrael  from  among  the  heathen.     And  1  will 
Tnake  them  one  nation — and  one  kingfhall  be  king  to  them 
all — even  'David  my  fervant  fhall  be  king  over  the?):. 
Ezek.  xxxvii.  21,  22,  24.     This  is  the  kingdom  re- 
prefented  to  Nebuchadnezzar  in  his  dream,  as  a  fione 
cut  out  without  hands^  which  became  a  great  mountain^ 
'and  filled  the  whole  earth.     And  Daniel,  in  expound- 
ing the  dream,  having  defcribed  the  Babylonian,  the 
Perfian,  the  Grecian,  and  Roman  empires,  fubjoins, 
Jn  the  days  of  thefe  kings,  that  is,  of  the  Roman  em- 
perors, fijall  the  God  of  heaven  fet  up  a  kingdom,  which 
fhall  never  he  defiroyed:  and  the  kingdom  fhall  not,  like 
the  former,  be  left  to  other  people  ;  but  it  fhall  break  in 
pieces  and  cQ'dfume  all  thefe  kingdoms,  and  it  flo  all  ft  and  for 
ever.    Dan.  ii.  34,   35,  44.     There   is  no  charadler 
v/hich  our  Lord  fo  often  afTumed  in  the  days  of  his 
flefh  as  that  of  the  Son  of  Man ;  and  he  no  doubt 
alludes  to  a  majeftic  viiion   in  Daniel,  the  only  place 
where  this  charadler  is  given  him  in  the  Old   Tefta- 
ment :     I faw  in  the  night  vifions^  fays  Daniel,  and  be- 
hold, one  like  the  Son  of  Man  came  to  the  Ancient  of  Days ^ 
and  there  was  given  to  him  dominion,  and  glory,  and  a 
kingdom,  that  all  people,  nations,  and  languages,  fhould 
ferve  him :  his  dominion  is  an  everlajting  dominion,  which 
fhall  not  pafs  away,  and  his  kingdom  that  which  fhall 
not  be  defiroyed,  Dan.  vii.  13,  14.  like  the  tottering 
kingdoms  of  the  earth,  which  are  perpetually  rifing 
and  falling.     This  is  the  king  that  Zecharlah  refers 
to  when,  in  profpecl  of  his  triumphant  entrance  into 
Jerufalem,  he  calls  the  inhabitants  to  give  a  proper 
reception  to  fo  great  a  Prince.  Rejoice  greatly,  O  daugh- 
ter of  Zion ;  fhout,  O  daughter  of  Jerufalem :  behold  thy 
King  coming  unto  thee,  &c.    Zech.  ix.  9.     Thus  the 
prophets  confpire  to  afcribe  royal  titles  and  a  glorious 
kingdom  to  the  Meffiah.     And  thefe  early  and  plain 

N  n  notices 


^74  The  Mediatorial  Kingdom  and         Serm.  la. 

notices  of  him  raifed  a  general  expeftation  of  him  un- 
der this  royal  characTier.  It  was  from  thefe  prophecies 
concerning  him  as  a  king,  that  the  Jews  took  occafion, 
as  I  obferved,  to  look  for  the  Meffiah  as  a  temporal 
prince;  and  it  was  a  long  tim.e  before  the  apoftles 
themfelves  were  delivered  from  thefe  carnal  prejudices. 
They  were  folicitous  about  pofts  of  honour  in  that 
temporal  kingdom  which  they  expeded  he  would  fet 
up:  and  even  after  his  refurredlion  they  cannot  for- 
bear allcing  him,  Lord^  wilt  thou  at  this  time  rejiore 
again  the  kingdom  to  IJrael?  Adls  i.  6.  that  is,  "  Wilt 
thou  now  reftore  the  Jews  to  their  former  liberty  and 
independency,  and  deliver  them  from  their  prefent 
fubjecflion  to  the  Romans  ?"  It  was  under  this  view 
that  Herod  was  alarmed  at  his  birth,  and  fhed  the 
blood  of  fo  many  innocents,  that  he  might  not  efcape. 
He  was  afraid  of  him  as  the  heir  of  David's  family 
and  crown,  who  might  difpofl'efs  him  of  the  govern- 
ment ;  nay,  he  was  expeded  by  other  nations  under 
the  charadter  of  a  mighty  king;  and  they  no  doubt 
learned  this  notion  of  him  from  the  Jewilh  prophe- 
cies, as  well  as  their  converfation  with  that  people. 
Hence  the  Magi,  or  eaftern  wifemen,  v^'hen  they  came 
to  pay  homage  to  him  upon  his  birth,  inquired  after 
him  in  this  language, — "  Where  is  he  that  is  born 
King  of  the  Jews  ?"  Matt.  ii.  2.  And  what  is  ftitl 
more  remarkable,  we  are  told  by  two  heathen  hifto- 
rians,  that  about  the  time  of  his  appearance  a  general 
expectation  of  him  under  this  charadter  prevailed 
through  the  world.  "  Many,"  fays  Tacitus,  "  had 
a  perfuafion  that  it  was  contained  in  the  ancient  writ- 
ings of  the  priefts,  that  at  that  very  time  the  eaft 
fhould  prevail,  and  that  fome  defcendant  from  Judah 
ihould  obtain  the  univerfal  government."*  Suetonius 
fpeaks  to  the  fame  purpofc:  "  An  old  and  confcant 
opinion,"  fays  he,  "  commonly  prevailed  through  all 

the 

*  Fluribus  perfnafio  inerat,  antiquis  facerdotum  Uteris  continerj, 
eo  ipfo  tempore  fore,  ut  valefcerat  oiiens,  profedique  Judea  reium 
potirentur.     Tacit.  Hill.  1.  5- p.  631. 


Germ.  lo.  Glories  of  J efus  Chriji.  oj^ 

the  eaft,  that  It  was  in  the  fates,  that  fome  ihould  rife 
out  of  Judea  who  fliould  obtain  the  government  of 
the  world."*  This  royal  charadler  Chrift  himfelf  af- 
fumed,  even  when  he  converfed  among  mortals  in  the 
humble  form  of  a  fervant.  "  The  Father,  fays  he, 
has  given  me  power  over  all  fie Jh.  John  xvii.  2.  Yea, 
all  power  in  heaven  and  earth  is  given  to  me.  Matt,  xxviii. 
13.  The  gofpel-church  which  he  erefted  is  moil 
commonly  called  the  kingdom  of  heaven  or  of  God, 
in  the  evanaelifts  :  and  when  he  was  about  to  intro- 
duce  it,  this  was  the  proclamation  :  The  kingdom  of 
heaven  is  at  hand.  Under  this  charader  alfo  his  fer- 
vants  and  difciples  celebrated  and  preached  him.  Ga- 
briel led  the  fong  in  foretelling  his  birth  to  his  mother. 
He  fijall  be  great,  and  the  Lord  fhall  give  unto  him  the 
throne  of  his  father  David  \  and  he  fr jail  reign  over  the 
houfe  of  Jacob  for  ever :  and  of  his  kingdom  there  fhall 
be  no  end.  Lukei.  32,  33.  St.  Peter  boldly  tells  the 
murderers  of  Chrift,  God  hath  made  that  fame  Jefus 
whom  you  crucified,  both  Lord  and  Chrifi,  A6ts  ii.  "^6. 
and  exalted  him,  with  his  own  right  hand,  to  be  a  Prince 
and  a  Saviour.  Adts  v.  31.  And  St.  Paul  repeatedly 
reprefents  him  as  advanced  far  above  p7'incipality,  and 
power,  and  might,  and  dominion,  and  every  name  that  is 
named,  not  only  in  this  world,  but  alfo  in  that  which  is 
to  come :  and  that  God  hath  put  all  things  under  his  feet, 
and  given  him  to  be  head  over  all  things  to  his  church. 
Eph.  i.  21,  22.  Phil.  ii.  9 — 1 1.  Yea,  to  him  all  the 
hofts  of  heaven,  and  even  the  whole  creation  in  con- 
cert, afcribe  power  andfirength,  and  honour  and  glory. 
Rev.  V.  12.  Pilate  the  heathen  was  over-ruled  to  give 
a  kind  of  accidental  teftimony  to  this  truth,  and  to 
publifh  it  to  different  nations,  by  t-he  infcription  upon 
the  cr-ofs  in  the  three  languages  then  moft  in  ufe,  the 

Latin, 

*  Percrebuerat  orlente  toto  vetus  &  conlbns  opinio,  efTe  in  fatis, 
ut  eo  tempore  Judea  profedi  rerum  ppcirentur.     Suet,  in  Velp.  c.  4. 

The  fameneis  of  the  expedtation  is  remarkably  evident,  ironi  the 
famenefsof  the  words  in  which  thefe  two  hiftorians  exprel's  it.  JudeS, 
trofedi  rerum  potlrentur.  It  was  not  only  a  common  expeflatjoc, 
but  it  was  comraouly  esprefled  in  the  fame  language. 


276  ^he  Mediatorial  Kingdom  and         Sefm.  ipc 

Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew :  'This  is  Jefus  of  Nazareth^ 
the  Kiitg  of  the  Jews  ;  and  all  the  remonftrances  of  the 
Jews  could  not  prevail  upon  him  to  alter  it.  Finally, 
it  is  he  that  wears  upon  his  vejiure^  and  upon  his  thigh ^ 
this  name  '■joriiien^  King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords. 
Rev,  xix.  16.  and  as  his  name  is,  fo  is  he. 

Thus  you  fee,  my  brethren,  by  thefe  inftances,  fe- 
Ie;5led  out  of  many,  that  the  kingly  charadlcr  and  do- 
minion of  our  Lord  Jefus  runs  through  the  whole 
Bible.  That  of  a  king;  is  his  favourite  character  in 
■which  he  glories,  and  which  is  the  mod  expreffive  of 
his  office.  And  this  confideration  alone  may  convince 
you  that  this  charafter  is  of  the  greateft  importance, 
and  worthy  of  your  moft  attentive  regard. 

It  is  the  mediatorial  kingdom  of  Chriftthatis  here 
mtended,  not  that  which  as  God  he  exercifes  over  all 
the  works  of  his  hands  :  it  is  that  kingdom  which  is 
an  empire  of  grace,  an  adminiftration  of  mercy  over 
our  guilty  world.  It  is  the  difpenfation  intended  for 
the  falvation  of  fallen  finners  of  our  race  by  the  gofpel  j 
and  on  this  account  the  gofpel  is  often  called  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  \  becaufe  its  happy  confequences  are 
not  confined  to  this  earth,  but  appear  in  heaven  in  the 
higheft  perfedion,  and  laft  through  all  eternity. 
Hence,  not  only  the  church  of  Chrift  on  earth,  and 
the  difpenfation  of  the  gofpel,  but  all  the  faints  in 
heaven,  and  that  more  finiflied  ceconomy  under  which 
they  are  placed,  are  all  included  in  the  kingdom  of 
Chrift.  Here  his  kingdom  is  in  its  infancy,  but  in 
heaven  is  arrived  to  perfedionj  but  it  is  fubftantially 
the  fame.  Though  the  immediate  defign  of  this  king- 
dom is  the  falvation  of  believers  of  the  guilty  race  of 
man,  and  fuch  are  its  fubjec^ts  in  a  peculiar  fenfe ; 
yet  it  extends  to  all  worlds,  to  heaven,  and  earth,  and 
hell.  The  whole  univerfe  is  put  under  a  mediatorial 
head  -,  but  then,  as  the  apoftle  obferves,  he  is  made 
head  over  all  things  to  his  church,  Eph.  i.  22.  that  is, 
for  the  benefit  and  falvation  cf  his  church.  As  Me- 
diator he  is  carrying  on  a  glorious  fcheme  for  the  re- 


Serm.  lo.  Glories  of  J efus  Chriji.  277 

covery  of  man,  and  all  parts  of  the  univerfe  are  in- 
terefted  or  concern  themfelves  in  this  grand  event ; 
and  therefore  they  are  all  fubjeded  to  him,  that  he  may 
fo  manage  them  as  to  promote  this  end,  and  baffle  and 
overwhelm  all  oppofition.     The  eleft  angels  rejoice 
in  fo  benevolent  a  defign  for  peopling  their  manfions, 
left  vacant  by  the  fall  of  fo  many  of  their  fellow-angels, 
with  colonies  tranfplanted  from  our  world,  from  a  race 
of  creatures  that  they  had  given  up  for  loft.     And 
therefore  Chrift,  as  a  Mediator,  is  made  the  head  of 
all  the  heavenly  armies,  and  he  employs  them  as  his 
minijlering  fpirits^  to  mini  ft  er  to  them  tbc:t  are  heirs  of 
falvation.  Heb.  i.  14.     Thefe  glorious  creatures  are 
always  on  the  wing  ready  to  difcharge  his  orders  in 
any  part  of  his  vaft  empire,  and  delir^ht:  to  be  employ- 
ed in  the  fervices  of  his  mediatorial  kingdom.     This 
is  alfo  an  event  in  w^hich  the  fallen  angeis  deeply  in* 
tereft  themfelves ;  they  have  united  all  their  force  and 
art  for  near  fix  thousand  year?  to  difturb  and  fubvert 
his  kingdom,  and  blaft  the  defigns  oi  redeeming  lovej 
they  therefore  are   all   iu!)jcdcd  to  the  controul   of 
Chrift,  and  he  fhortens  and  lengthens  their  chains  as 
he  pleafes,  and  they  cannot  go  an  hair's  breadth  be- 
yond  his  permiffion.     The  fcriptures   reprefent  our 
world  in  its  ftate  of  guilt  and  mifery  as  the  kingdom 
of  Satan;  finners,  while  ftaves  to  fin,  are  his  fubjefls; 
and  every  aft  of  difobedience  againft  God  is  an  ad:  of 
homage  to  this  infernal  prince.    Hence  Satan  is  called 
the  God  of  this  world,  2  Cor.  iv.  4.  the  prince  of  this 
worlds  John  xii.  31.  the  powir  of  darknefs,  L.uktxxn. 
5^.  the  prince  of  the  poiioer  of  the  air^  the  Spirit  that 
710W  zvorketh  in  the  children  of  difobedience.  Eph.  ii.  3. 
And  finners  are  faid  to  be  taken  captive  by  him  at  his 
''jjill.    2.  Tim.  ii.  26.     Hence   alfo    the   minifters   of 
Chrift,  who  are  employed  to  recover  finners  to  a  ftate 
of  holinefs  and  happinefs,  are  reprefented  as  foldiers 
armed  for  war  j  not  indeed  with  carnal  weapons,  but 
If  ith  thofe  which  are  fpiritual,  plain  trutli  arguments, 
and  miracles  s  zwd  thefe  are 'made  jnigbty  through  God  to 

the 


278  I'he Mediatorial  Kingdom  and         Serm.  lo? 

the  pulling  dozvn  of  Jlrong  holds^  cajiing  down  imagina- 
tions^ and  every  high  thing  that  exalteth  itfelf  againji 
the  knoivledge  of  God,  and  bringing  into  captivity  every 
thought  to  the  obedience  of  Chrijt.  1  Cor.  x.  3,  4,  5. 
And  chrlftiaiis  in  general  are  reprefented  as  wreftling^ 
not  with  fiejh  and  blood,  but  againji  principalities,  againji 
powers,  -againji  the  rulers  of  the  darknefs  of  this  world^ 
againji  Jpiritual  wickednej]cs  in  high  places.  Eph.  vi.  12. 
Hence  alio  in  particuiar  it  is  that  the  death  of  Chrift 
is  reprefented  not  as  a  defeat,  but  as  an  illuftrious  con- 
jqueft  gained  over  the  powers  of  hell  •,  becaufe,  by  this 
means  a  way  was  opened  for  the  deliverance  of  finners 
from  under  tlieir  power,  and  reftoring  them  into  li- 
berty and  the  favour  of  God.  By  that  ftrange  con- 
temptible weapon,  the  crofs,  and  by  the  glorious  re- 
ibrreftion  of  Jefus,  \\q.  Jpoiled  principalities  and  powers, 
and  made  a  fjje-w  of  them  openly,  triumphing  over  them. 
Col.  ii.  15.  Through  death,  fays  the  apoftle,  he  de- 
frayed him  that  had  the  power  of  death  -,  that  is,  the 
devil.  Heb.  ii.  14.  Plad  not  Chrift  by  his  death  of- 
fered a  propitiatory  facrifice  for  the  fins  of  men,  they 
would  have  continued  for  ever  under  the  tyranny  of 
Satan  -,  but  he  has  purchafed  liberty,  life,  and  falva- 
tion  for  tliem  ;  and  thus  he  hath  deftroyed  the  king- 
dom of  darknefs,  and  tranflated  multitudes  from  it 
into  his  own  gracious  and  glorious  kingdom. 

Hence,  upon  the  right  of  redemption,  his  media- 
torial authority  extends  to  the  infernal  regions,  and  he 
controuls  and  rcftrains  thofe  malignant,  mighty,  and 
turbulent  potentates,  according  to  his  pleafure.  Far- 
ther, the  inanimate  world  is  connected  with  our  Lord's 
defign  to  fave  finners,  and  therefore  is  fubjedted  to 
him  as  Mediator.  He  caufes  the  fun  to  rife,  the  rain 
to  fall,  and  the  earth  to  yield  her  increafe,  to  furnillv 
provifion  for  the  fubjeds  of  his  grace,  and  to  raife, 
fupport  and  accommodate  heirs  for  his  heavenly  king- 
dom. As  for  the  fons  of  men,  who  are  more  imme- 
diately concerned  in  this  kingdom,  and  for  whofe  fake 
it  was  ereded,  they  are  all  its  fubieds  j  but  then  they 

are 


Serm.  lo.         Glories  of  Jefus  Chrijl.  2}g 

are  of  dIfFerent  Torts,  according  to  their  charaflers. 
Multitudes  are  rebels  agaiiift  his  government  j  that  is, 
they  do  not  voluntarily  fubmit  to  his  authority,  nor 
chufe  they  to  do  his  fervice:  they  will  not  obey  his 
laws.    But  they  are  his  fubjefts  notwithftanding  •,  that 
is,  he  rules  and  manages  them  as  he  pleafes,  whether 
they  will  or  not.     This  power  is  neceflary  to  carry  on 
fuccefsfully   his  gracious  defign  tov/ards  his  people  i 
for  unlefs  he  had  the  management  of  his  enemies,  they 
might  baffle  his  undertaking,  and  fuccefsfully  counter- 
ad  the  purpofesof  his  love.     The  kings  of  the  earth, 
as  well  as  vulgar  rebels  of  a  private  charadler,  have 
often  fet  themfelves  againft  hisjcingdom,  and  fome- 
times  they  have  flattered  themfelves  they  had  entirely 
demoliflied  it.*  But  Jefus  reigns  abfolute  andfupreme 
over  the  kings  of  the  earth,  and  over-rules  and  con- 
trouls  them  as  he  thinks  proper  -,  and  he  difpofes  all 
the  revolutions,  the  rifes  ancl  falls  of  kingdoms  and 
empires,  fo  as  to  be  fubfervient  to  the  great  defigns  of 
his  mediation ;  and  their  united  policies  and  powers 
cannot  fruftrate  the  work  which  he   has  undertaken. 
But  befides  thefe  rebellious  involuntary  fubjeds,  he 
has  (blefled  be  his  name ! )   gained  the  confent  of  thou- 
fands,  and  they  have  become  his  willing  fubjeifts  by 
their  own  choice.     They  regard  his  authority,  they 
love  his  government,  they  make  it  their  ftudy  to  pleafe 
him,  and  to  do  his  will.     Over  thefe  he  exercifes  a 
government  of  fpecial  grace  here,  and  he  will  make 
them  the  hanpy  fubjefts  of  the  kingdom  of  his  glory 
hereafter,     ^nd  it  is  his  government  over  thefe  that 
I  intend  more  particularly  to  confider.     Once  more, 
the  kingdom  of  Jefus  is  not  confined  to  this  world, 
but  all  the  millions  of  mankind  in  the  invifible  world 
are  under  his  dominion,  and  will  continue  fb  to  ever- 
lafting  ages.     He  is  the  Lord  of  the  dead  and  the  livings 
Rom.  xiv.  9.  and  has  the  keys  of  Hades,  the  vaft  in- 
vifible 

*  In  the  loth  and  laft  Roman  perfecution,  Dioclef  an  h^d  a  medal 
(Irud  with  this  infcription,  "  The  chiiitian  name  demolifhedj  and 
the  worfhip  of  the  gods  reltoreu." 


:8o  The  Mediatorial  Kinzdom  and         Serm.  ic 


'6' 


vifible  world  (including  heaven  as  well  as  hell)  and  of 
death.  Rev.  i.  i8.  It  is  he  that  turns  the  key,  and 
opens  the  door  of  death  for  mortals  to  pafs  from  world 
to  world  :  it  is  he  that  opens  the  gates  of  heaven,  and 
welcomes  arid  admits  the  nations  that  keep  the  com- 
mandments of  God :  and  it  is  he  that  opens  the  prifon 
of  hell,  and  locks  it  fail:  upon  the  prifoners  of  divine 
juftice.  He  v.'ill  for  ever  exercife  authority  over  the 
vaft  regions  of  the  unfccn  world,  and  the  unnumbered 
multitudes  of  fpirits  with  which  they  are  peopled. 
You  hence  fee,  my  brethren,  the  univerfal  extent  of 
the  Redeemer'?  kingdom  •,  and  in  this  refpedt  how 
much  does  it  differ  from  all  the  kingdoms  of  the 
earth  .^  The  kingdoms  of  Great-Britain,  France, 
China,  Perfia,  are  but  little  fpots  of  the  globe.  Our 
world  has  indeed  been  opprclled  in  former  times  with 
what  mortals  call  univei-fal  monarchies  -,  fuch  were  the 
Babylonian,  the  Perfian,  the  Grecian,  and  efpecially 
the  Roman.  But  in  truth,  thefe  were  fo  far  from  be- 
ing ftridly  univerfal,  that  a  confiderable  part  of  the 
habitable  earth  was  not  fo  much  as  known  to  them. 
But  this  is  an  empire  fl:ri(fdy  univerfal.  It  extends 
over  land  and  fea ;  it  reaches  beyond  the  planetary 
worlds,  and  all  the  luminaries  of  heaven  j  nay,  be- 
yond the  throne  of  the  moft  exalted  archangels,  and 
downward  to  the  lov/eft  abyfs  in  hell.  An  univerfal 
empire  in  the  hands  of  a  mortal  is  an  huge,  unwieldy 
thing  ;  an  heap  of  confufion  -,  a  burthen  to  mankind; 
and  it  has  always  rufhed  headlong,  from  its  glory,  and 
fallen  to  pieces  by  its  own  weight.  But  Jefus  is  equal 
fo  the  immenfe  province  of  an  empire  ftridly  univer- 
fal :  his  hand  is  able  to  hold  the  reins ;  and  it  is  the 
blefTmg  of  our  world  to  be  under  his  adminiftration. 
He  will  turn  what  appears  to  us  fccnes  of  confufion 
into  perfed:  order,  and  convince  all  worlds  that  he  has 
not  taken  one  wrong  ftep  in  the  whole  plan  of  his  in- 
finite government. 

The  kingdoms  of  the  world  have  their  laws   and 
ordinances,  and  {o  has  the  kingdom  of  Chrift.     Look 

into 


S  er m .  i  o .  Glories  of  J e fits  Chrijl.  281' 

into  your  Bibles,  and  there  you  will  find  the  laws  of 
this  kingdom,  from  its  firft  foundation  immediately 
upon  the  fall  of  man.  The  laws  of  human  govern- 
ments are  often  defedive  or  unrighteous ;  but  thefe  are 
perfed,  holy,  juft,  and  good.  Human  laws  are  en- 
forced with  fandlions  -,  but  the  rewards  and  punifhments 
can  only  affedl  our  mortal  bodies?,  and  cannot  reach 
beyond  the  prefent  life  ;  but  the  fandions  of  thefe  di- 
vine laws  are  eternal,  and  there  never  jfhall  be  an  end 
to  their  execution.  Everlafting  happinefs  and  ever- 
lafting  mifery,  of  the  moft  exquifite  kind  and  the 
higheft  degree,  are  the  rewards  and  punifhments  which 
the  immortal  King  diftributes  among  his  immortal 
fubjedls;  and  they  become  his  charader,  and  are  adapt- 
ed to  their  nature. 

Human  laws  extend  only  to  outward  aftions,  but 
thefe  laws  reach  the  heart,  and  the  principle  of  adlion 
within.  Not  a  fecret  thought,  not  a  motion  ot  the 
foul,  is  exempted  from  them.  If  the  fubjeds  of  earth- 
ly kings  obferve  a  decorum  in  their  outward  condud, 
and  give  no  vifible  evidence  of  difloyalty,  they  are 
treated  as  good  fubjedts,  though  they  fhould  be  ene- 
mies in  their  hearts.  "  But  Jefus  is  the  Lord  of 
fouls  i"  he  makes  his  fubjeds  bow  their  hearts  as  well 
as  the  knee  to  him.  He  fweetly  commands  their 
thoughts  and  affedions  as  well  as  their  external  prac- 
tice, and  makes  himfelf  inwardly  beloved  as  well  as 
outwardly  obeyed.  His  fubjeds  are  fuch  on  whom  he 
may  depend:  they  are  all  ready  to  lay  down  their 
lives  for  him.  Love,  cordial,  unfeigned,  ardent  love, 
is  the  principle  of  all  their  obedience  ;  and  hence  it  is 
that  his  com.mandments  are  not  grievous,  but  delight- 
ful to  them. 

Other  kings  have  their  miniilers  and  officers  of 
{late.  In  like  manner  Jefus  employs  the  armies  of 
heaven  as  miniftering  fpirits  in  his  mediatorial  king- 
dom :  befides  thefe  he  has  minifters,  of  an  humbler 
form,  who  negociate  more  immediately  in  his  name 
with  mankind.     Thefe  are  intruded  with  the  miniftry 

Oo  of 


l82  'The  Mediatorial  Kingdom  and         Serm.  ic. 

of  reconciliation,  to  befeech  men,  in  his  ftead,  to  be 
reconciled  to  God.  Thefe  are  appointed  to  preach 
his  word,  to  adminlfter  his  ordinances,  and  to  manage 
t\\Q  affairs  of  his  kingdom.  This  view  gives  a  pecu- 
har  dignity  and  importance  to  this  office.  Thefe 
fhould  be  adorned,  not  hke  the  minifters  of  earthly 
Gourts,  with  the  trappings  of  gold  and  filver,  but  with 
the  beauties  of  holinefs,  the  ornament  of  a  meek  and 
quiet,  zealous  and  faithful  fpirit,  and  a  life  becoming 
the  gofpel  of  Chriir. 

Other  kings  have  their  foldiers :  fo  all  the  legions 
of  the  eled  angels,  the  armies  of  heaven,  are  the  fol- 
diers of  Jefus  Chrift,  and  under  his  command.    This 
he  afierted  v/hen  he  v/as  in  fuch  defencelefs  circum- 
ftances,  that  he  feemed  to  be  abandoned   by  heaven 
and  earth.     "  I  could  pray  to  my  Father,  fays  he,  and 
he  would  fend  me  more  than  twelve  legions  of  angels. 
Matt.  xxvi.  5:5.     I  cannot  forbear  reading  to  you  one 
of  the  moft  majeftic  defcriptions  of  this  all-conquer- 
ing hero  and  his  army,  which  the  language  of  mor- 
tality IS  capable  of.  Rev.  xix.  11.  16.    I  faw  heaven 
open^  fays  St.  John,  and  behold  a  white  horfe,  an  em- 
blem of  vi(5l:ory  and  triumph,  and  he  that  fat  upon  him 
was  called  Faithful  and  True.     How  different  a  cha- 
racter from   that  of  mortal  conquerors  !      "  And  in 
righteoufnefs  he  doth  judge  and  make  war."     War  is 
generally  a  fcene  of  injuftice  and  lawlefs  violence;  and 
thofe  plagues  of  mankind  we  call  heroes  and  warriors, 
ufe  their  arms  to  gratify  their  own  avarice  or  ambi- 
tion, and  make  encroachments  upon  others.     Jefus, 
the  Prince  of  Peace,  makes  war  too,  but  it  is  in  righ- 
teoufnefs ;  it  is  in  the  caufe  of  righteoufnefs  he  takes 
up  arms.     The  divine  defcription  proceeds  :  His  eyes 
were  as  a  fia?ne  of  fire ;  and  on  his  head  were  many 
crowns^  emblems  of  his  manifold  authority  over  the 
various  kingdoms  of  the  world,  and  the  various  re- 
gions of  the  univerfe.     And  he  was  clothed  with  a  vef- 
ture  dipt  in  blood.,  in  the  blood  of  his  enemies ;  and 
his  name  was  called.,  The  Word  of  God :  and  the  armies 

which 


Serm.  10.  Glories  of  J efus  Chrifi.  283 

which  were  in  heaven^  followed  him  upon  white  horfes, 
clothed  in  fine  linen^  white  and  clean:  the  whlteft  inno- 
cence and  purity,  and  the  beauties  of  holinefs  are,  as 
it  were,  the  uniform,  the  regimentals  of  thefe  celef- 
tial  armies.  And  out  of  his  mouth  goeth  ajharp  fword^ 
that  with  it  he (hould  fmite  the  nations:  and  he  fhall  rule 
them  with  a  rod  of  iron  \  and  he  trcadeth  the  wine  prefs 
of  the  fiercenefs  and  wrath  of  Almighty  God;  and  he 
hath  on  his  veflure  and  on  his  thigh  a  name  written^ 
King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords.  In  what  manner 
the  war  is  carried  on  betvveen  .the  armies  of  heaven 
and  the  powers  of  hell,  we  know  not ;  but  that  there 
is  really  fomething  of  this  kind,  we  may  infer  from 
Rev.  xii.  7,  9.  There  was  war  in  heaven :  A^ichael 
and  his  angels  fought  againfi  the  dragon  j  and  the  dra- 
gon fought  and  his  angels,  and  ■prevailed  not,  neither  was 
there  place  found  any  more  in  heaven.  And  the  great 
dragon  was  cafi  out,  that  old  ferpant  called  the  Devil 
and  Satan. 

Thus  you  fee  all  the  hod  of  heaven  are  volunteers 
under  the  Captain  of  our  falvation.  Nay,  he  mar- 
fhals  the  ftars,  and  calls  them  by  their  names.  The 
fiars  in  their  courfes,  fays  the  fublime  Deborah,  fought 
againfi  Sifera,  the  enemy  of  God's  people.  Judges  v. 
20.  Every  part  of  the  creation  ferves  under  him, 
and  he  can  commiffion  a  gnat,  or  a  fly,  or  the  meaneft 
infed:,  to  be  the  executioner  of  his  enemies.  Fire 
and  water,  hurricanes  and  earthquakes ;  earthquakes 
which  have  fo  lately  fhattered  fo  great  a  part  of  our 
globe,  now  tottering  with  age,  and  ready  to  fall  to 
pieces,  and  bury  the  guilty  inhabitants  in  its  ruins, 
all  thefe  fight  under  him,  and  confpire  to  avenge  Iiis 
quarrel  with  the  guilty  fons  of  men.  The  fubjeds 
of  his  grace  in  particular  are  all  fo  many  foldiers, 
their  life  is  a  conftant  warfare ;  and  they  are  incefl'ant- 
\y  engaged  in  hard  conflift  with  temptations  from 
without,  and  the  infurredions  of  fm  from  within. 
Sometimes,  alas!  they  fall;  but  their  General  lifts 
them  up  again,  and  infpires  them  with  flrength  to 

renew 


2 §4  The  Mediatorial  Kingdom  and         Serm.  lo, 

renew  the  fight.     They  fight  moft  fuccefsfully  upon 
their  knees.     This  is  the  moft  advantageous  pofture 
for  the  foldiers  of  Jefijs   Chrift ;    for  prayer  brings 
down  recruits  from   heaven  in  the  hour  of  difficulty. 
They   are  indeed  but  poor  weakUngs  and  invalids  •, 
and  yet  they  overcome,    through  the  blood  of  the 
liambj  and  he  makes  them  conquerors,  yea  more 
than  conquerors.     It  is  the  military  character  of  chrif- 
tians  that  gives  the  apoftle  occafion  to  addrefs  them 
in  the  military  flile,  like  a  general  at  the  head  of  his 
nrmy.  Eph.  vi.  lo — 18.     Be  ftrong  in  the  Lord,  and 
in  the  power  of  his  might.     Put  on  the  whole  armour  of 
God,  that  ye  may  be  able  to  ft  and  againft  the  wiles  of  the 
devil.    Stand  therefore,  halving  your  loins  girt  about  with 
truth,  and  having  on  the  breajtplate  of  righteoufnefs,  and 
your  feet  food  with  the  preparation  of  the  gofpel  of  peace  \ 
above  all,  taking  the  fhield  of  faith,  wherewith  ye  fhall 
he  able  to  quench  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked.     And 
take  the  helmet  of  falvation,  and  the  fword  of  the  fpirit, 
*:vhich  is  the  word  of  God,  praying  always  with  all  prayer 
and  fupplication.     The  minifters  of  the  gofpel  in  parti- 
cular, and  efpecially  the  apoftles,  are  foldiers,  or  officers, 
5n  this  fpiritual  army.     Hence  St.  Paul  fpeaks  of  his 
office,  in  the  military  ftile;  /  have,  fays  he,  fought 
the  good  fight.   2  Tim.  iv.  7.    IVe  war,  fays  he,  though 
it  be  not  after  the  fleflj.     The  humble  dofirines  of  the 
crofs  are  our  weapons,  and  thefe  are  migjAy  through 
God,  to  demolifh  the  ftrong  holds  of  the  prince  of  dark- 
iiefs,  and  to  bring  every  thought  into  a  joyful  captivity 
to  the  obedience  of  faith.   2  Cor.  x.  3 — 5.     Fight  the 
good  fight,  fays  he  to  Timotliy.   1  Tim.  vi.  12.     And 
again,  thou  therefore  endure  hardnefs,  as  a  good  foldier 
cf  Jefus  Chrift.  2  Tim.  ii.  3.     The  great  defign  of 
the  gofpel-miniftry  is  to  refcue  enfiaved  fouls  from  the 
tyranny  of  fin  and  Satan,  rnd  to  recover  them  into  a 
flate  of  liberty  and  loyalty  to  Jefus  Chrift  j  or,  in  the 
words  of  the  apoftle,   to  turn  them  from   darknefs  to 
light,  and  from  the  power  cf  Satan  unto  God.  Acfls  xxvi. 
J  8.     Mortals   indeed   are  verv  uricqual  for  the  con- 

fiifti 


Serm.  lO.  Glories  of  J efus  Chriji.  285 

Aid  ;  but  their  fuccefs  more  confpicuoufly  flievvs  that 
the  excellency  of  the  povcer  is  of  God :  and  many  have 
they  fubdued,  through  his  ftrength,  to  the  obedience 
of  faith,  and  made  the  willing  captives  of  the  crofs 
of  our  divine  Immanuel.     Other  kingdoms  are  often 
founded  in  blood,  and  many  lives  are  loft  on  both  fides 
in  acquiring  them.     The  kingdom  of  Chrift,  too,  was 
founded  in  blood  ;  but  it  was  the  blood  of  his  own 
heart :   life  was  loft  in  the  conflid  -,  but  it  was  his  own  •, 
his   own  life   loft,    to  purchafe   life  for   his   people. 
Others  have  waded  to  empire  through  the  blood  of 
mankind,  and  even  of  their  own  fubjeds,  but  Chrift 
flied  only  his  own  blood  to  fpare  that  of  his  foldiers. 
The  oreneral  devotes  his  life  as  a  facrihce  to  fave  his 
army.     The  Fabii  and  Decii  of  Rome,  who  devoted 
themfelves  for  their  country,  were  but  faint  fliadows 
of  this  divine  bravery.     O  !   the  generous  patriotifm, 
the  ardent  love  of  the  Captain  of  our  falvation  1    How 
amiable  does   his  character  appear,  in  contraft  with 
that  of  the  kings  of  the  earth !      They  often  facrifice 
the  lives  of  their  fubjeds,  while  they  keep  themfelves 
out  of  danger,  or  perhaps  are  rioting   at  eafe  in  the 
pleafures  and  luxuries  of  a  court ;  but  Jefus  engaged 
in  the  conflid  with  death  and  hell  alone.     He  ftood 
a  fingle  champion  in  a  field  of  blocd.     He  conquered 
for  his  people  by  falling  himfelf :   he  fubdued  his  and 
their  enemies  l)y  refigning   himfelf  to   their  pov/er. 
Worthy  is  fuch  a  general  to  be  Commander  in  Chief 
of  the  hofts  of  God,  and  to  lead  the  armies  of  heaven 
and  earth  !      Indeed  much  blood   has  been   fned   in 
carrying  on  this  kingdom.     The  earth  has  been  foak- 
ed  with  the  blood  of  the  faints  ;  and  millions  have  re- 
fifted  even  unto  blood,  ftriving  againft  fin,  and  nobly 
laid  down  their  lives  for  the  fake  of  Chrift  and  a  good 
confcience.     Rome  has  been  remarkably  the  feat  of 
perfecution;  both  formerly  under  the  Heathen  Em- 
perors, and  in  Utter  times,  under  a  fuccefiion  of  Popes, 
ftill  more  bloody  and  tyrannical.     There  were  no  lefs 
than  ten  general  perfecutions  under  the  Heathen  Em- 
perors, 


286  The  Med'uiiorial  Kingdo7n  and         Serm.  lo.- 

perors,  through  the  vail  Roman  empire,  in  a  little 
more  than  two  Inindred  years,  which  followed  one 
another  in  a  clo(e  fuccellion  -,  in  which  innumerable 
multitudes  of  chriftians  loft  their  lives  by  an  endlefs 
variety  of  tortures.  And  fince  the  church  of  Rome 
has  ufurped  her  authority,  the  blood  of  the  faints  has 
hardlv  ever  ceafed  running  in  fome  country  or  other  j 
though,  bleiled  be  God,  many  kingdoms  fhookoff  the 
yoke  at  the  ever-memorable  period  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, above  two  hundred  years  ago  \  which  has  great- 
ly weakened  that  perfecutmg  power.  This  is  that 
myftical  Babylon  which  was  reprefented  to  St.  John 
as  drunken  ijuith  the  blood  of  the  faints^  and  with  the 
blood  of  the  martyrs  of  Jefus.  Rev.  xvii.  6.  In  her 
was  found  the  blood  of  the  prophets,  and  of  the  faints, 
and  of  all  that  were  flain  upon  the  earth,  ch.  xviii.  24. 
And  thefe  fcenes  of  biood  are  ftill  perpetrated  in 
France,  that  plague  of  Europe,  that  has  of  late  ftretch- 
ed  her  murderous  arm  acrofs  the  wide  ocean  to  difturb 
us  in  thefe  regions  of  peace.  There  the  Proteftant? 
are  ftill  plundered,  chained  to  the  gallies,  broken  alive 
upon  the  torturing  wheel,  denied  the  poor  favour  of 
abandoning  their  country  and  their  all,  and  flying  nak- 
ed to  beg  their  bread  in  other  nations.  Thus  the 
harmlefs  fubjeds  of  the  Prince  of  Peace  have  ever 
been  flaughtered  from  age  to  age,  and  yet  they  are 
reprefented  as  triumphant  conquerors.  Hear  a  poor 
perfecuted  Paul  on  this  head :  In  tribulation^  in  dijirefs^ 
in  perfecution,  in  nakednefs^  in  peril  and  fwordj  we  are 
conquerors^  we  are  more  than  conquerors^  through  him  that 
loved  us.  Rom.  viii.  36,  37.  '■Thanks  be  to  God  who  al- 
ways caufelh  us  to  triumph  in  Chrifi.  2  Cor.  ii.  14.  What- 
foeverisborn  of  God,  fays  the  Evangel  ift,  overcometh  the 
world.  I  John  v.  4.  Whence  came  that  glorious  army 
which  we  fo  often  fee  in  the  Revelation  ?  We  are 
told,  they  came  out  of  great  tribulation,  ch.  vii.  14.  And 
they  overcame  by  the  blood  of  the  Lainb,  and  by  the  word 
of  their  tefiimony  ;  and  they  loved  not  their  lives  unto  the 
death,  ch.  xii.  11.     Thev  that  fuftered  tortures  and 

death 


Serra.  lo.         Ghries  of  Jefus  Chrifi.  2S7 

death  under  the  beaft,  are  faid  to  have  gotten  the  ziSory 
(Tjer  him.  ch.  xv.  2.  Vidory  and  triumph  found  ftrange 
when  thus  afcribed  •, — but  the  gofpel  helps  us  to  un- 
derhand this  myfterjr.  By  theie  lulFerings  thev  ob- 
tained the  illuftrious  crown  of  martyrdom,  and  pecu- 
liar degrees  of  glory  and  happinefs  tiirough  an  ersdlefs 
duration.  Their  death  was  but  a  ihort  tranfition  from 
the  lowefi  and  more  remote  regions  of  their  Redeem- 
er's kingdom  into  his  immediate  prefence  and  glorious 
court  in  heaven.  A  temporal  death  is  rewarded  with 
an  immortal  life  ;  and  their  light  iiffiiLfions^  which  were 
but  for  a  moment^  wrought  out  for  tkem  a  far  mere  ex- 
ceeding and  eternal  weight  of  glory.  2  Cor.  iv.  17.  Even 
in  the  agonies  of  torture  their  fouls  were  often  niled 
with  fuch  delightful  fenfations  of  the  love  of  God,  as 
fwallowed  up  the  fenfations  of  bodily  pain  •,  and  a  bed 
of  flames  was  Tweeter  to  them  than  a  bed  of  rofes. 
Their  fouls  were  beyond  the  reach  of  all  the  inftru- 
raents  of  torment-,  and  as  to  their  bodies  they  fhall 
yet  have  a  glorious  refurreiflion  to  a  bleHed  immorta- 
lity. And  now  I  leave  you  to  iudge,  whether  thev 
or  their  enemies  got  the  vidory  in  this  confiicfl ;  and 
which  had  mofc  caufe  to  triumph.  Like  their  Mafter, 
they  rofe  by  falling;  they  triumphed  over  their  ene- 
mies by  fubmitting,  like  lambs,  to  their  power.  If 
the  foldiers  of  other  generals  die  in  the  field,  it  is  not 
in  the  power  of  their  commanders  to  reward  them. 
But  the  foldiers  of  Jefus  Chrift,  by  dying,  are,  as  it 
were,  carried  in  triumph  from  the  field  of  blood  into 
tht  prefence  of  their  Mafter,  to  receive  his  approba- 
tion, and  a  glorious  crown.  Death  puts  them  into  a 
capacity  of  receiving  and  enjoying  greater  rewards 
than  they  are  capable  of  in  the  prefent  ftare.  And 
thus  it  appears,  that  his  foldiers  always  win  the  day ; 
or,  as  the  apoftle  exprefTes  it,  he  caufes  them  always  to 
triumph;  and  not  one  of  them  has  ever  been  or  ever 
fhall  be  defeated,  however  weak  and  helplefs  in  him- 
felf,  and  however  terrible  the  power  of  his  enemies. 
—And  O  '   when   all  thefe  warriors   meet  at  length 

from 


288  The  Mediatorial  Kingdom  and        Serm.  lo; 

from  every  corner  of  the  earth,  and,  as  it  were,  pafs 
in  review  before  their  General  in  the  fields  of  heaven, 
with  their  robes  wafhed  in  his  blood,  with  palms  of 
viftory  in  their  hands,  and  crowns  of  glory  on  their 
heads,  all  drefled  in  uniform  with  garments  of  falva- 
tion,  what  a  glorious  army  will  they  make  !  and  how 
will  they  caufe  heaven  to  ring  with  fhouts  of  joy  and 
triumph  ! 

The  founders  of  earthly  kingdoms  are  famous  for 
their  heroic  aftions.  They  have  braved  the  dangers 
of  fea  and  land,  routed  powerful  armies,  and  fubjeft- 
ed  nations  to  their  will.  They  have  llied  rivers  of 
blood,  laid  cities  in  ruins,  and  countries  in  defolation. 
Thefe  are  the  exploits  which  have  rendered  the  Alex- 
anders, the  Caslars,  and  other  conquerors  of  this 
world,  famous  through  all  nations  and  ages.  Jefus 
had  his  exploits  too  -,  but  they  were  all  of  the  graci- 
ous and  beneficent  kind.  His  conquefts  were  fo  many 
deliverances,  and  his  victories  falvations.  He  fub- 
dued,  in  order  to  fet  free  •,  and  made  captives  to  de- 
liver them  from  fiavery.  He  conquered  the  legions 
of  hell,  that  feemcd  let  loofe  at  that  time,  that  he 
might  have  opportunity  of  difplaying  his  power  over 
them,  aiKi  that  mankind  might  be  fenfible  how  much 
they  needed  a  deliverer  from  their  tyranny. — He 
triumphed  over  the  temptations  of  Satan  in  the  wil- 
dernefs,  by  a  quotation  from  his  own  word.  He  ref- 
cued  wretched  creatures  from  his  power  by  an  almigh- 
ty command.  He  conquered  the  moft  inveterate  and 
fiubborn  difeafcs,  and  reftored  health  and  vigour  with 
a  word  of  his  mouth.  He  vanquifhed  ftubborn  fouls 
with  the  power  of  his  love,  and  made  them  his  willing 
people.  He  triumphed  over  death,  the  king  of  ter- 
rors, and  delivered  Lazarus  from  the  prifon  of  the 
grave,  as  an  earned  and  firft-fruits  of  a  general  refur- 
redlion.  Nay,  by  his  own  inherent  powers  he  broke 
the  bonds  of  death,  and  forced  his  way  to  his  native 
heaven.  He  deftroyed  him  that  had  the  power  of 
death,  /.  e.  the  devil,  by  his  own  death,  and  laid  the 

foundation 


S  er  m .  i  o .  Glortes  of  J  ejus  Cbrijl.  2  So 

foundation  in  his  own  blood  for  deftroylng  his  ufurped 
kingdom,  and  forming  a  glorious  kingdom  cf  willing 
fa bjedts  redeemed  from  his  tyranny. 

The  death  of  feme  great  conquerors,  particularly 
of  Julius  Csfar,  is  faid  to  be  prognofticared  or  at- 
tended with  prodigies  :  but  none  equal  to  thofe  which 
folemnized  the  death  of  Jefus.  The  earth  trembled, 
the  rocks  were  burft  to  pieces,  the  vail  of  the  temple 
was  rent,  the  heavens  were  clothed  in  mourning,  and 
the  dead  ftarted  into  life.  And  no  wonder,  when  tiie 
Lord  of  nature  was  expiring  upon  a  crofs.  He  fub- 
dued  and  calmed  the  fiiormy  wind,  and  the  boilterous 
waves  of  the  fea.  In  fliort,  he  fhewed  an  abfo'ute 
fovereigntv  over  univerfal  nature,  and  managed  the 
mcft  unruly  elements  with  a  fingle  word.  Other  con- 
querors have  gone  from  country  to  country,  carrying 
defolation  along  with  them ;  Jefus  went  about  doing 
good.  His  miraculous  powers  were  but  powers  of 
miraculous  mercy  and  beneficence.  He  could  eafilv 
have  advanced  himfelf  to  a  temporal  kingdom,  and 
routed  all  the  forces  cf  the  earth ;  but  he  had  no  am- 
bition of  this  kind.  He  that  raifed  Lazarus  from  the 
grave  could  eafily  reftorc  his  foldiers  to  vigour  and 
life,  after  they  had  been  wounded  or  killed.  He  that 
fed  five  thoufand  with  five  loaves  and  two  fiflies,  could 
have  fupported  his  army  with  plenty  of  provifion  in 
the  greatefl  fcarcity.  He  that  walked  upon  the  boif- 
terous  ocean,  and  enabled  Peter  to  do  the  fame,  could 
eafily  have  tranfported  his  forces  from  country  to 
country,  without  the  conveyance  of  fhips.  Nay,  hz 
was  capable  by  his  own  lingle  power  to  have  gained 
univerfal  conqueft.  What  could  all  the  armies  of  the 
earth  liave  done  againft  him,  who  ftruck  an  armed 
company  down  to  the  earth  with  onlv  a  word  of  his 
mouth  ?  But  theie  v/ere  not  the  vidories  he  affected  : 
Viftories  of  grace,  deliverances  for  the  opprefTed,  fal- 
v.Ttion  for  the  loft;  thefe  were  his  heroic  aiftions.  He 
glories  in  his  being  mighty  to  fave.  Ifaiah  Ixiii.  i. 
When  his  warm  difciples  made  a  motion  tliat  he  fhould 

P  p  employ 


2^0  The  Mediatorial  Kingdom  and         Stxm.  i(^} 

employ  his  miraculous  powers  to  p'unifh  the  Samaritans 
who  ungratefully  refufed  him  entertainment,  he  re- 
buked them,  and  anfwered  like  the  Prince  of  Peace, 
The  Son  of  man  is  noi  come  to  dejiroy  mens  lives.,  but  to 
fave.  Luke  Ix.  ^6.  He  came  to  feek  and  to  fa-ve  that 
which  was  lofi.  Luke  xix.  i  o.  O  how  amiable  a  cha- 
rader  this !  How  much  more  lovely  the  Saviour  of 
finners,  the  Deliverer  of  fouls,  than  the  enflavera  and 
deftroyers  of  mankind-,  which  Is  the  general  charadler 
of  the  renowned  heroes  of  our  world  ?  Who  has  ever 
performed  fuch  truly  Iieroic  and  brave  a<5lions  as  this 
almighty  conqueror  ?  He  has  pardoned  the  moft  ag- 
gravated crimes,  in  a  confiftency  with  the  honours  of 
the  divine  government :  he  has  delivered  an  innumer- 
able multitude  of  Immortal  fouls  from  the  tyranny  of 
fin  and  the  powers  of  hell,  fet  the  prifoners  free,  and 
brought  them  into  the  liberty  of  the  Son  of  God  ;  he 
has  peopled  heaven  with  redeemed  flaves,  and  advanced 
them  to  royal  dignity.  All  his  fubje5ls  are  kings.  Rev. 
i.  6.  To  him  that  overcometh^  fays  he,  will  I  grant  to  fit 
with  me  in  my  throne^  even  as  I  alfo  overcame.,  and  am  fet 
d&wn  with  my  father  in  his  throne.  Rev.  ill.  2 1 .  They 
fliail  all  be  adorned  with  royal  robes  and  crowns  of  un- 
fading glory.  They  are  advanced  to  empire  over  their 
lufts  and  paflions,  and  all  their  enemies.  Who  ever 
gave  fuch  encouragement  to  his  foldiers  as  this,  If  we 
fuffer  with  him^  we  know  zve  fhall  alfo  reign  with  him  ? 
2  Tim.  il.  12.  What  mortal  general  could  beftow  im- 
mortality and  perfect  happinefs  upon  his  favourites  ? 
But  thefe  boundlefs  bleffings  Jefus  has  to  beftow.  In 
human  governments  merit  is  often  negleded,  and  thofe 
who  ferve  their  country  beft  are  often  rewarded  with 
degradation.  But  none  have  ever  ferved  the  King  of 
kings  in  vain.  The  leaft  good  a<5tion,  even  the  giving 
a  cup  of  water  to  one  of  his  neceffitous  faints,  fhall  not 
pafs  unrewarded  in  his  government. 

Other  kings  have  their  arms,  their  fwords,  their 
cannon,  and  other  inftruments  of  deftrudion ;  and  with 
thefe  they  acquire  and  defend  their  dominions.    Jefus, 

our 


iSerm.  lO.  Glories  of  J efus  Chriji.  291 

►our  king,  has  his  arms  too,  but  O  !  of  how  difFerent 
a  kind !  The  force  of  evidence  and  convi(5lion  in  his 
dodrine,  attefted  with  miracles,  the  energy  of  his  dy- 
ing love,  the  gentle,  and  yet  efficacious  influence  of  his 
holy  fpirit  j  thefe  are  the  weapons  with  which  he  con- 
quered the  world.  His  gofpcl  is  the  great  magazine 
from  whence  his  apoftles,  the  firft  founders  of  his  king- 
dom, drew  their  arms;  and  with  thefe  they  fubdued 
the  nations  to  the  obedience  of  faith.  The  gofpel^  fays 
St.  Paul,  is  the  power  of  God  unlo  falvation.  Rom.  i. 
16.  The  humble  dodrines  of  the  crofs  became  al- 
mighty, and  bore  down  all  before  them,  and  after  a 
time  fubdued  the  vaft  Roman  empire  which  had  fub- 
dued the  world.  The  holy  fpirit  gave  edge  and  force 
to  thefe  weapons  ;  and,  blefled  be  God,  though  they 
are  quite  impotent  without  his  affiftance,  yet  when  he 
concurs  they  are  ftill  fuccefsful.  Many  ftubborn  fin- 
ners  have  been  unable  to  refift  the  preaching  of  Chrift 
crucified:  they  have  found  him  indeed  the  power  of 
God.  And  is  it  not  aftonifhing  that  any  one  fhould 
be  able  to  ftand  it  out  againft  liis  dying  love,  and  con- 
tinue the  enemy  of  his  crofs  ?  7,  fays  he,  if  I  be  lifted 
np  from  the  earth,  i.  e,  if  I  be  fufpended  on  the  crofs, 
will  draw  all  men  unto  me.  John  xii.  32.  You  fee  he 
expefted  his  crofs  would  be  an  irrefiftible  weapon. 
And  O  !  blefled  Jefus,  who  can  fee  thee  expiring  there 
in  agonies  of  torture  and  love  \  who  can  fee  thy  blood 
gufliing  in  fl:reams  from  every  vein,  who  can  hear  thee 
there,  and  not  melt  into  fubmiflion  at  thy  feet !  Is 
there  one  heart  in  this  afl^embly  proof  againft  the  energy 
of  this  bleeding,  agonizing,  dying  love }  Methinks 
fuch  a  fight  muft  kindle  a  correfpondent  afleftion  in 
your  hearts  towards  him ;  and  it  is  an  exploit  of  wick- 
ednefs,  it  is  the  laft  defperate  effort  of  an  impenetrable 
jieart,  to  be  able  to  refift. 

Other  conquerors  march  at  the  head  of  their  troops, 

with  all  the  enfigns  of  power  and  grandeur,  and  their 

forces  numerous,  inured  to  war,  and  well  armed  ;  and 

|rom  fuch  appearances  and  preparations  who  is  there 

•  but; 


292  'Tbe  Mediatorial  Kingdom  and         Serm.  lo. 

but  what  expedls  vidlory  ?  But  fee  the  defpifed  Naza-  . 
rene,  without  riches,  without  arms,  without  forces, 
confiicfcing  with  the  united  powers  of  earth  and  hellj 
or  fee  a  company  of  poor  fifhermen  and  a  tent-maker, 
■with  no  other  powers  but  thofe  of  doing  good,  with  no 
other  arms  but  thofe  of  reafon,  and  the  ftrange  unpo- 
pular dodrines  of  a  crucified  Chrift  !  fee  the  profefied 
followers  of  a  mafter  that  was  hung  like  a  malefactor 
and  a  fiave,  fee  thefe  men  marching  out  to  encounter 
tlie  powers  of  darknefs,  the  whole  ftrength  of  the  Ro- 
man empire,  the  lufts,  prejudices,  and  interefts  of  all 
jiations,  and  travelling  from  country  to  country,  with- 
out guards,  without  friends,  expofed  to  infuk  and  con- 
tempt, to  the  rage  of  perfecution,  to  all  manner  of  tor- 
mented deaths  v/hich  earth  or  hell  could  invent:  fee 
this  little  army  marching  into  the  wide  world,  in  thefe 
circumdances,  and  can  you  expeft  they  will  have  any 
fuccefs  ?  Does  this  appear  a  promifing  expedition  ? 
No  i  human  reafon  would  forebode  they  v/ill  foon  be 
cut  in  pieces,  and  the  chriflian  caufe  buried  with  them. 
But  thefe  unpromifing  champions,  v/ith  the  aid  of  the 
1-Ioly  Spirit,  conquered  the  world,  and  fprcad  the  re- 
ligion of  the  crucified  Jefus  among  all  nations.  It  is 
true  they  loft  their  lives  in  the  caufe,  like  brave  foldiers  ; 
but  the  caufe  did  not  die  with  them.  Their  blood 
proved  the  feed  of  the  church.  Their  caufe  is  immortal 
and  invincible.  Let  devils  in  hell,  let  Heathens,  Jews, 
iind  Mahometans,  let  Atheifts,  Free-thinkers,  Papifts, 
and  perfecutors  of  every  charader,  do  their  word:  j  ftili 
this  caufe  will  live  in  fpite  of  them.  All  the  enemies 
of  Chrift  will  be  obliged  -to  confefs  at  laft,  Vv'ith  JuHan 
the  apoflate  Roman  emperor,  who  exerted  all  his  art 
to  aboiilh  chrifLianity  •,  but,  when  mortally  wounded  in 
battle, outrageoufiy  fprinkled  his  blood  tov/ards  heaven, 
and  cried  out,  Vicijli,  O  GdliL-re!  *'  Thou  haft  con- 
quered, O  Galilean  1"  Yes,  my  brethren,  Jefus,  the 
Prophet  of  Galilee,  v/iil  pulh  his  conquefts  from  coun- 
try to  country,  until  all  nations  fubmit  to  him.  And, 
blefied  be  his  name,  his  vidiorious  arm  has  reached  to 


Serm.  10.         Glories  of  J efus  Chriji.  293 

us  in  thefe  ends  of  the  earth :  here  he  has  fubdued  fome 
obftinate  rebels,  and  made  their  reluflant  fouls  willingly 
bow  in  afFedionate  homage  to  him.  And  may  I  not 
produce  fome  of  you  as  the  trophies  of  his  vicflory  ? 
Has  he  not  rooted  out  the  enmity  of  your  carnal  minds, 
and  fweetly  conftrained  you  to  the  moft  afFed:ionate 
obedience  ?  Thus,  blefled  Jefus  !  thus  go  on  conquer- 
ing, and  to  conquer.  Gird  thy  fword  upon  thy  thigh^  O 
mojl  mighty  I  and  in  thy  glory  and  majefty  ride  profper- 
oufly  through  our  land,  and  m.ake  this  country  a  dutiful 
province  of  the  dominion  of  thy  grace.  My  brethren, 
fhould  we  all  become  his  v/illing  fubjeds,  he  would  no 
longer  fufFer  the  perfidious  flaves  of  France,  and  their 
favage  allies,  to  chaftife  and  punifh  us  for  our  rebellion 
againft  him ;  but  peace  Jhould  again  run  do'wn  like  a  river ^ 
and  righteoufnefs  like  a  mighty  fir  earn. 

The  kingdoms  of  the  world  have  their  rife,  their 
progrefs,  perfection,  declenfion,  and  ruin.  And  in  thefe 
things,  the  kingdom  of  Chrift  bears  fome  refemblance 
to  them,  excepting  that  it  (hall  never  have  an  end. 

Its  rife  was  fmall  at  firft,  and  it  has  paffed  through 
many  revolutions  in  various  ages.  It  was  firft  founded 
in  the  family  of  Adam,  but  in  about  1600  years,  the 
fpace  between  the  creation  and  the  flood,  it  was  almoft 
demolifhed  by  the  wickednefs  of  the  world ;  and  at 
length  confined  to  the  little  family  of  Noah.  After  the 
flood,  the  world  foon  fell  into  idolatry,  but,  that  this 
kingdom  of  Chrift  might  not  be  deftroyed  quite,  it  was 
ere6led  in  the  family  of  Abraham ;  and  among  the  Jews 
it  continued  until  the  coming  of  Chrift  in  the  fiefti. 
This  was  indeed  but  the  infancy  of  his  kingdom,  and 
indeed  is  feldom  called  by  that  name.  It  is  the  gofpel 
conftitution  that  is  reprefented  as  the  kingdom  of  Chrift, 
in  a  fpecial  fenfe.  This  was  but  very  fmall  and  unpro- 
mifing  at  firft.  "When  its  Founder  was  dying  upon 
Calvary,  and  all  his  followers  had  forfaken  him  and 
fled,  who  v/ould  have  thought  it  v/ould  ever  have  come 
to  any  thing,  ever  have  recovered  ?  But  it  revived  with 
him.;    and,  when  he  furniftied  his  apoftles  with  gifts 

and 


294  The  Mediatorial  Kingdom  and        Serm.  lo. 

and  graces  for  their  miflion,  and  fent  them  forth  to  in. 
creafe  his  kingdom,  it  made  its  progrefs  through 
the  world  with  amazing  rapidity,  notwithftanding  it 
met  with  very  early  and  powerful  oppofition.  The 
Jews  fet  themfelves  againft  it,  a*d  raifed  perfecutions 
againft  its  minifters,  wherever  they  went.  And  pre- 
fently  the  tyrant  Nero  employed  all  the  power  of  the 
Roman  empire  to  crufh  them.  Peter,  Paul,  and 
thoufands  of  the  chriftians  fell  a  prey  to  his  rage,  like 
fheep  for  the  ilaughter.  This  perfecution  was  conti- 
nued under  his  fucceflbrs,  with  but  little  interruption, 
for  about  two  hundred  years. 

But,  under  all  thefe  preflures,  the  church  bore  up 
her  head ;  yea,  the  more  fhe  was  trodden,  the  more 
fhe  fpread  and  flourifhed ;  and  at  length  fhe  was  deli- 
vered from  oppreflion  by  Conftantine  the  Great,  about 
the  year  320.     But  now  fhe  had  a  more  dangerous 
enemy  to  encounter,  I  mean  profperity :  and  this  did 
her  much  more  injury  than  all  the  perfecutions  of  her 
enemies.     Now  the  kingdom  of  Chrift  began  to  be 
corrupted  with  hereiies :  the  miniftry  of  the  gofpel, 
formerly  the  moft  dangerous  pofts  in  the  world,  now 
became  a  place  of  honour  and  profit,  and  men  began 
to  thruft  themfelves  into  it  from  principles  of  avarice 
and  ambition  J   fuperftition  and  corruption  of  morals 
increafed;  and  at  length  the  Bifhop  of  Rome  fet  up 
for  univerfal  head  of  the  church  in  the  year  606,  and 
gradually  the  whole  monftrous  fyftem  of  popery  was 
formed  and  eftablifhed,  and  continued  in  force  for  near 
a  thoufand  years.     The  kingdom  of  Chrift  was  now 
at  a  low  ebb  j  and  tyranny  and  fuperftition  reigned 
under  that  name  over  the  greateft  part  of  the  chriftian 
world.     Neverthelefs  our  Lord  ftill  had  his  witneftes. 
The  Waldenfes  and  Albigenfes,  John  Hus,  and  Je- 
rome of  Prague,  and  Wickliife  in  England,  oppofed 
the  torrent   of  corruption  ;  until  at  length,  Luther, 
Calvin,  Zuinglius,  and  feveral  others,  v/ere  made  the 
honoured  inftruments  of  introducing  the  Reformation 
from  popery;    when  fundry  whole  kingdoms,  v/hich 

had 


Serm.  lo.  Glories  of  J efus  Chrifi.  295 

had  given  their  power  to  the  beaft,  and  particularly  our 
mother-coruntry,  fhook  ofF  the  papal  authority,  and 
admitted  the  pure  light  of  the  gofpel.  Since  that  time 
the  kingdom  of  Chrift  has  ftruggled  hard,  and  it  has 
loft  ground  in  feveral  countries;  particularly  in  France, 
Poland,  Bohemia,  &c.  where  there  once  were  many 
Proteftant  churches  •,  but  they  are  now  in  ruins.  And, 
alas  !  thofe  countries  that  dill  retain  the  reformed  re- 
iigion,  have  too  generally  reduced  it  into  a  mere  for- 
mality ;  and  it  has  but  Httle  influence  upon  the  hearts 
and  lives  even  of  its  profeflbrs.  Thus  we  find  the 
cafe  remarkably  among  us.  This  gracious  kingdom 
makes  but  Httle  way  in  Virginia.  The  calamities  of 
war  and  famine  cannot,  alas  !  draw  fubje6ts  to  it ;  hut 
we  feem  generally  determined  to  periih  in  our  rebel- 
lion  father  than  fubmit.  Thus  it  has  been  in  this 
country  from  its  firft  fettlemcnt;  and  how  long  it  will 
continue  in  this  fituation  is  unknown  to  mortals  :  how- 
ever, this  v/e  may  know,  it  will  not  be  fo  always. 
We  have  the  {Ironged  afllirances  that  Jefus  will  yet 
take  to  him  his  great  power,  and  reign  in  a  more  ex- 
tenfive  and  illuftrious  manner  than  he  has  ever  yet 
done;  and  that  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth  (liall  yet 
become  the  kingdoms,  of  our  Lord  and  of  bis  Chriji. 
There  are  various  parts  of  the  heathen  world  where 
the  gofpel  has  never  yet  been  -,  and  the  Jews  have 
never  yet  been  converted  as  a  nation ;  but  both  the 
calling  of  the  Jews  and  the  fulnefs  of  the  Gentiles, 
you  will  find  plainly  foretold  in  the  nth  chapter  to  the 
Romans ;  and  it  is,  no  doubt,  to  render  the  accom- 
plifhment  of  this  event  the  more  confpicuous,  that 
the  Jews,  who  are  difperfed  all  over  the  world,  have, 
by  a  flrange,  unprecedented,  and  fingular  providence, 
been  kept  a  diftindt  people  to  this  day,  for  1700  years; 
though  all  other  nations  have  been  fo  mixt  and  blend- 
ed together,  who  were  not  half  fo  much  difperfed  into 
different  countries,  that  their  diftinft  original  cannot 
be  traced.  Poflerity  fhall  fee  this  glorious  event  in 
fome  happy  future  period.     How  far  it  is  from  us,  I 

will 


2^6  The  Mediatorial  Kingdom,  ^c.         Serm.  io» 

will  net  determine :  though,  upon  fome  grounds,  I 
apprehend  it  is  not  very  remote.     I  fhall  live  and  die 
in  the  unfliaken  belief  that  our  guilty  world  fhall  yet 
fee  glorious  days.      Yes,  my  brethren,  this  defpifed 
gofpel,  that  has  fo  little  effeft  in  our  age  and  country, 
fhall  yet  fhiiie  like  lightning,  or  like  the  fun,  through 
all  the  dark  regions  of  the  earth.     It  fhall  triumph 
over    Heathenifra,    Mahometifm,    Judaifm,  Popery, 
and  all  thofe  dangerous  errors  that  have  infeded  the 
chriflian   church.     This  gofpel,  poor   negroes,  fhall 
yet  reach  your  countrymen,  whom   you  left  behind 
you  in  Africa,  in  darknefs  and  the  fhadow  of  death, 
and  blefs  your  eyes  with  the  light  of  falvation :   and 
the  Indian  favages,  that  are  now  ravaging  our  coun- 
try, fhall  yet  be  transformed  into  lambs  and  doves  by 
the  gofpel  of  peace.     The  fcheme  of  Providence  is 
not   yet  completed,  and  much  remains  to  be  accom- 
plilhed  of  what  God  has  fpoken  by  his  prophets,  to 
ripen  the  world  for  the  univerfal  judgment;   but  when 
all  thefe  things  are  finifhed,  then  proclamation  fhall  be 
made  through  all  nature,  "  That  Time  fhall  be  no 
more:"  then  the  Supreme  Judge,  the  fame  Jefus  that 
afcended  the  crofs,  will  afcend  the  throne,  and  review 
the  affairs  of  time :  then  will  he  put  an  end  to  the 
prefent  courfe  of  nature,  and  the  prefent  form  of  ad- 
miniflration.    Then  fhall  heaven  and  hell  be  filled  with 
their  refpedive  inhabitants  :  then  will  time  clofe,  and 
eternity  run  on  in  one  uniform  tenor,  without  end. 
But  the  kingdom  of  Chrifl,  though  altered  in  its  fitu- 
ation  and  form  of  government,  will  not  then  come  to 
a  conclufion.     His  kingdom  is  flridly  the  kingdom  of 
heaven;  and  at  the  end  of  this  world,  his  fubjec^s 
will  only  be  removed  from  thefe  lower  regions  into  a 
more  glorious  country,  where  they  and  their  King  fhall 
live  together  for  ever  in  the  moft  endearing  intimacy  ; 
where  the  noife  and  commotions  of  this  refllefs  world, 
the  revolutions  and   perturbations  of  kingdoms,   the 
terrors  of  war  and  perfecution,    fhall  no  more  reach 
them  i  but  all  will  be  perfed  peace,  love,  and  happi- 

nefs. 


Serm.  ii.  Things  unfeen preferred  to  thofefeen.  297 
nefs,  through  immeafurable  duration.  This  is  the 
laft  and  moft  illuftrious  ftate  of  the  kingdom  of  Chril!:, 
now  fo  fmall  and  weak  in  appearance  :  this  is  the  final 
grand  refult  of  his  adminiftration  ^  and  it  will  appear 
to  admiring  worlds  wifely  planned,  glorioufly  execut- 
ed, and  perfedly  finifhed. 

What  conqueror  ever  erefted  fuch  a  kingdom ! 
What  fubjefts  fo  completely,  fo  lafiingly  happy,  as 
thofe  of  the  blefled  Jefus ! 


SERMON     XI. 

Things  unfeen  to  be  preferred  to  Things  feen. 


2  CoR.  iv.  18.  While  we  look  not  at  the  'Things  which 
are  fesn^  but  at  the  Things  which  are  not  feen  •,  for 
the  Things  which  are  feen  are  temporal :  but  the  Things 
which  are  not  feen  are  eternaL 

AMONG  all  the  caufes  of  the  ftupid  unconcerned- 
nefs  of  finners  about  religion,  and  the  feeble 
endeavours  of  faints  to  improve  in  it,  there  is  none 
more  common  or  more  effedual,  than  their  not  form- 
ing a  due  eftimate  of  the  things  of  time  in  comparifoii 
of  thofe  of  eternity.  Our  prefent  affairs  engrofs  all 
our  thoughts,  and  exhp.uft  all  our  activity,  though  they 
are  but  tranfitory  trifles  -,  while  the  awful  realities  of 
the  future  world  are  hid  from  our  eyes  by  the  veil  of 
flefh  and  the  clouds  of  ignorance.  Did  thefe  break  in 
upon  our  minds  in  all  their  almighty  evidence  and  tre- 
mendous importance,  they  would  annihilate  the  mofl 
majeflic  vanities  of  the  prefent  flate,  obfcure  the  glare 
of  earthly  glory,  render  all  its  pleafures  infijpid,  and 
give  us  a  noble  infenfibility  under  all  its  forrows.  A. 
realizing  view  of  thefe  would  fhock  the  libertme  in 

Q^q  his 


±gS  Things  unfeen  to  be  Serm.  i  r. 

his  thoughtlefs  career,  tear  off  the  hypocrite's  mafk, 
and  iiifiame  the  devotion  of  languifhlng  faints.  The 
concern  of  mankind  would  then  be  how  they  might 
make  a  fafe  exit  out  of  this  world,  and  not  how  they 
may  live  happy  in  it.  Prefent  pleafure  and  pain  would 
be  fvvallowed  up  in  the  profpedt  of  everlafting  happi- 
nefs  or  mifery  hereafter.  Eternity,  awful  eternity, 
would  then  be  our  ferious  contemplation.  The  plea- 
fures  of  fin  would  ftrike  us  with  horror,  if  they  ifllie 
in  eternal  pain,  and  our  prefent  afflidions,  however 
tedious  and  fevere,  would  appear  but  light  and  mo- 
mentary, if  they  v/ork  out  for  us  a  far  more  exceeding 
and  eternal  weight  of  glory. 

Thefe  were  the  views  the  apoftle  had  of  things,  and 
thefe  their  effefts  upon  him.  He  informs  us  in  this 
chapter  of  h:s  unv/earied  zeal  to  prcpagate  hcgofpel 
amidft  all  the  hardfnips  and  dangers  th:^.:.  r.ttended  the 
painful  Qiicharge  of  his  miniftry.  Th'^J^^h  he  bore 
about  in  his  body  the  dying  of  the  Lord  Jefus,  though 
he  was  always  delivered  unto  death  ^or  J  ''•'s'  fake,  yet 
he  fainted  riot  •,  and  this  was  th"  profpec:  that  ainmated 
him,  that  his  light  affiitiion^  u)hich  was  but  for  a  inovent^ 
woiddivorkfor  him  afar  more  exceeding  ahde>rrna:  weight 
of  glory.  When  we  view  his  fufferings  abfolutely, 
without  any  reference  to  eternity,  they  were  very  lieavy 
and  of  many  years  continuance ;  and  when  he  repre- 
fents  them  in  this  view,  hov/  moving  is  the  relation ! 
fee  2  Cor.  xi.  23 — 29.  But  when  he  views  them  in 
the  light  of  eternity,  and  compared  with  their  glorious 
ifiues,  they  fink  into  nothing;  then  fcourging,  ftoning, 
imprifonment,  and  all  the  various  deaths  to  which  he 
was  daily  expofed,  are  but  light,  trifling  afflidions, 
hardly  worth  naming  -,  then  a  feries  of  uninterrupted 
fufferings  for  many  years  are  but  affliflions  that  endure 
for  a  moment.  And  when  he  views  a  glorious  futu- 
3-ity,  human  language  cannot  exprefs  the  ideas  he  has 
of  the  happinefs  refer  ved  for  him  •■>  it  is  afar  more  ex- 
ceeding and  eternal  weight  of  glory :  a  noble  fentiment ! 
and  expreft  in  the  fublimeft  manner  the  language  of 
mortals  can  admit  of.  It 


Scrm.  II.  preferred  to  Things  feen.  299 

It  is  glory,  in  oppofition  to  afilidion;  a  weight  of 
glory,  in  oppofition  to  light  afflidlion ;  a  mafly  opprcf- 
iive  bleffednefs,  which  it  requires  all  the  powers  in  the 
foul,  in  their  full  exertion,  to  fupporf.  andjn  oppofi- 
tion to  afflifcion  for  a  moment,  it  is  eternal  glory :  to 
finifli  all,  it  is  ^.far  more  exceeding  glory  *  What  greater 
idea  can  be  grafped  by  the  human  mind,  or  exprefled 
in  the  feeble  language  of  mortality  !  Nothing  but  feel- 
ing that  weight  of  glory  could  enlarge  his  conception; 
and  nothing  but  the  dialec?l  of  lieavcn  could  better  ex- 
prefs  it.  No  wonder  that,  with  this  view  of  things,  h^^ 
jfhould  reckon  that  the  fufferings  of  the  ■prefent  life  are  not 
worthy  to  he  compared  with  the  glory  that  [hall  be  revealed. 
Rom.  viii.  18. 

The  apoftle  obferves,  that  he  formed  this  eftimate 
of  things,  while  he  looked  not  at  the  "  things  which 
are  feen,  but  at  thofe  which  are  not  feen."  By  the 
things  that  are  feen,  are  meant  the  prefent  life,  and  all 
the  things  of  time  ;  all  the  pleafures  and  pains,  all  the 
labours,  purfuits,  and  amufements  of  the  prefent  ftate. 
By  the  things  that  are  not  feen,  are  intended  all  the 
invifible  realities  of  the  eternal  world  \  all  the  beings, 
the  enjoyments  and  fufferings  that  lie  beyond  the  reach 
of  human  fight-,  as  the  great  Father  of  fpirits,  the 
joys  of  paradife,  and  the  punifhments  of  hell.  We 
look  on  thefe  invifible  things,  and  not  on  thofe  that  are 
feen.  This  feems  like  a  contradidion  -,  but  it  is  eafily 
folved  by  underftanding  this  a6l,  defcribed  by  looking, 
to  be  the  afb  not  of  the  bodily  eye,  but  of  faith  and 
enlightened  reafon.  Faith  is  defined  by  this  apoftle  to 
be  the  fuhftance  of  things  hoped  for  ^  and  the  evidence  of 
things  not  feen.  Heb.  xi.  i.  And  it  is  the  apoftle's 
chief  defign  in  that  chapter,  to  give  inftances  of  the 
furprifing  efScacy  of  fuch  a  realizing  belief  of  eternal 
invifible  things  •,  fee  particularly  ver.  10,  13,  14,  16, 
25,  26,  27.  Hence  to  look  not  at  vifible,  but  invifi- 
ble 

*  The  original  far  furpaifes  the  bell  tranfiation.  The  adjeflive 
abfolute  (to  £^a^pM  t^t  %>X\ui<C\  is  very  Significant;  and  x»S'  uVsp- 
CoA-/)!'  ii?  v7rifQo?^r,v  is  ipirTiitable  in  our  language. 


SOO  Thifi^s  unfeen  to  he  Serm.  11/ 

ble  things,  Signifies  that  the  apoftle  made  the  latter  the 
chief  obje6ls  of  his  contemplations,  that  he  was  go- 
verned in  the  whole  of  his  ccndudl  by  the  impreflion 
of  eternal  things,  and  not  by  the  prefentj  that  he  formed 
his  maxims  and  fchemes  from  a  comprehenftve  {urvey 
of  futurities,  and  not  from,  a  partial  view  of  things  pre- 
fent  •,  tind,  in  fhort,  that  he  a<5ted  as  an  expedant  of 
eternity,  and  not  as  an  everlafting  inhabitant  of  this 
wretched  world.  This  he  elfewhere  exprefles  in  equi- 
valent terms,  JVe  walk  by  faitb,  and  riOt  by  fight.  2 
Cor,  V.  7. 

Further,  he  afiigns  a  reafon  why  he  had  a  greater 
regard  to  invifible  things  than  vifible  in  the  regulating 
of  his  condu6i;  \  for  the  things  which  are  feen  are  tempo- 
ral 5  but  the  things  which  are  notfeen^  fays  he,  are  eterhal. 
An  important  reafon  indeed  !  Eternity  annejied  to  a 
trifle  v/ould  advance  it  into  infinite  -importance,  but 
when  it  is  the  attribute  of  the  mofl:  perfed  happinefs, 
or  of  the  mofb  exquifite  mifery,  then  it  tranfcends  all 
comparifon:  then  all  temporal  happinefs  and  mifery, 
hov/ever  great  and  long  continued,  fhrink  into  nothing, 
is  drov/ned  and  lofl,  like  the  fmall  drop  of  a  bucket  in 
the  boundlefs  ocean. 

My  prefent  defign,  and  the  contents  of  the  ttxt^ 
prefcribe  to  me  the  following  method: 

I.  I  fhall  give  you  a  comparative  viev»^  of  vifible  and 
invifible  things,  that  you  may  fee  the  trifling  nature  of 
the  one,  and  the  importance  of  the  other.  This  I 
choofe  to  do  under  one  head,  becaufe  by  placing  thefe 
two  clafTes  of  things  in  an  immediate  oppofition,  wc 
may  the  more  eafily  compare  them,  and  fee  their  infi- 
nite difparity.     And, 

II.  I  fhall  fhew  you  the  great  and  happy  influence 
a  fuitable  impreilion  of  the  fuperior  importance  of  in- 
vifible to  vifible  things  would  have  upon  us. 

I.  I  fhall  give  you  a  comparative  view  of  vifible  and 
invifible  things  ;  and  we  may  compare  vifible  and  in- 
vifible things,  as  to  their  intrinfic  value,  and  as  to  their 
duration. 

I.  As 


Serm.  II.  preferred  to  Things  feen.  301 

I.  As  to  their  intrinfic  value  j  and  in  this  refped: 
the  difparity  is  inconceivable. 

This  I  fhall  illuftrate  in  the  two  comprehenfive  in- 
ftances  of  pleafure  and  pain.  To  fhun  the  one,  and  ob- 
tain the  other,  is  the  natural  effort  of  the  human  mind. 
This  is  its  aim  in  all  its  endeavours  and  purfuits.  The 
innate  defire  of  happinefs  and  averfion  to  mifery  are  the 
two  great  fprings  of  all  human  adivity  ;  and,  were 
thefe  fprings  relaxed  or  broken,  all  bufinefs  v/ould  ceafe, 
all  adivity  would  ftagnate,  and  univerfal  torpor  would 
feize  the  world.  And  thefe  principles  are  co-exiftent 
with  the  foul  itfelf,  and  will  continue  in  full  vigour  in 
a  future  ftate.  Nay,  as  the  foul  will  then  be  matured, 
and  all  its  powers  arrived  to  their  complete  perfeftion, 
this  eagernefs  after  happinefs,  and  averllon  to  mifery, 
will  be  alfo  more  quick  and  vigorous.  The  foul  in  its 
prefent  ftate  of  infancy,  like  a  young  child,  or  a  man 
enfeebled  and  ftupified  by  ficknefs,  is  incapable  of  very 
deep  fenfations  of  pleafure  and  pain ;  and  hence  an  ex- 
cefs  of  joy,  as  well  as  forrow,  has  fometimes  diflblved 
its  feeble  union  with  the  body.  On  this  account  we 
are  incapable  of  fuch  degrees  of  happinefs  or  mifery 
from  the  things  of  this  world  as  beings  of  more  lively 
fenfations  might  receive  from  them :  and  much  more 
are  we  incapable  of  the  happinefs  or  mifery  of  the  fu- 
ture world,  until  we  have  put  on  immortality.  We 
cannot  fee  God  and  live.  Should  the  glory  of  heaven 
blaze  upon  us  in  all  its  infuperable  fplendour,  it  would 
overwhelm  our  feeble  nature;  we  could  not  fupport 
fuch  a  weight  of  glory.  And  one  twinge  of  the  agonies 
of  hell  would  diflodge  the  foul  from  its  earthly  manfion : 
one  pang  would  convulfe  and  ftupify  it,  were  not  its 
powers  ftrengthened  by  the  feparation  from  the  body. 
But  in  the  future  world  all  the  powers  of  the  foul  v/ill 
be  mature  nnd  ftrong,  and  the  body  will  be  clothed 
with  immortality  ;  the  union  between  them  after  the 
refurreftion  will  be  infeparable,  and  able  to  fupport  the 
moft  opprefTive  weight  of  glory,  or  the  moft  intolerable 
load  of  torment.     Hence  it  follows  that  pleafure  and 

pain 


3'o2  things  unfeen  to  he  Serm.  u, 

pain  include  all  that  we  can  defire  or  fear  in  the  prefent 
or  future  v.- oriel  -,  and  therefore  a  comparative  view  of 
prefent  and  future  pleafure  and  pain  is  fufficient  to  en- 
able us  to  form  a  due  eftimate  of  vifible  and  invifible 
things.  By  prefent  pleafure,  I  mean  all  the  happinefs 
we  can  receive  from  prefent  things,  as  from  riches,  ho- 
nours, fenfual  gratifications,  learning,  and  intelle<5tu>al 
improvements,  and  all  the  amufements  and  Cxercifes  of 
this  life.  And  by  future  pleafure,  or  the  pleafure  which 
yefults  from  invifible  things,  I  mean  all  the  fruitions 
and  enjoyments  in  which  heavenly  happinefs  confifts. 
By  prefent  pain,  I  intend  all  the  uneafmefs  which  we 
can  receive  from  the  things  of  the  prefent  life;  as  po- 
verty, lofles,  difappointments,  bereavements,  ficknefs, 
and  bodily  pains.  And  by  future  pain,  I  rnean  all  the 
punifhments  of  hell ;  as  banifliment  from  God,  and  a 
privation  of  all  created  bleflings,  the  agonizing  reflec- 
tions of  a  guilty  confcience,  the  horrid  company  and 
exprobations  of  infernal  ghofts,  and  the  torture  of  in- 
fernal flames. 

Now  let  us  put  thefe  in  the  balance,  and  the  one 
will  fink  into  nothing,  and  the  other  rife  into  infinite 
importance. 

Temporal  things  are  of  a  contracted  nature,  and  not 
adequate  to  the  capacities  of  the  human  foul  -,  but  eter- 
nal things  are  great,  and  capable  of  communicating  all 
the  happinefs  and  mifery  which  it  can  receive.  The 
foul  in  its  prefent  fl:ate  is  not  capable  of  fiich  degrees 
of  hsppinefs  and  mifery  as  it  will  be  in  the  future,  when 
it  dwells  among  invifiblc  realities.  All  that  pleafure 
and  pain  which  we  receive  from  things  that  are  feen,  is 
intermingled  with  fome  ingredients  of  a  contrary  na- 
ture; but  thofe  proceeding  from  things  that  are  not 
feen,  are  pure  and  unmingled. 

I.  Vifible  things  are  not  equal  to  the  capacities  of 
the  human  foul.  This  little  (park  of  being,  the  foul, 
which  lies  obfcured  in  this  prifon  of  flefh,  gives  fre- 
quent difcoveries  of  furprifing  powers:  its  defires  in 
particular  have  a  kind  of  infinity.     But  all  temporary 

objects 


Serm.  ir.  preferred  to  Things  f^n.  309 

objeds  are  mean  and  contrac^ted  •,  they  cannot  afrord  it 
a  hippinefs  equal  to  its  capacity,  nor  render  it  as  mi- 
ferable  as  its  capacity  of  fufFering  will  bear.  Hence, 
in  the  greateft  affluence  of  temporal  enjoyments,  in  the 
midft  of  honours,  pleafures,  riches,  friends,  &c.  it  ftili 
feels  a  painful  void  within,  and  finds  an  unknown  fome- 
thing  wanting  to  complete  its  happinefs.  Kings  have 
been  unhappy  upon  their  thrones,  and  all  their  grandeur 
have  been  but  majeftic  mifery.  So  Solomon  found  it, 
who  had  opportunity  and  curiofity  to  make  the  expe- 
riment i  and  this  is  his  verdid  upon  all  earthly  enjoy- 
ments, after  the  moil  impartial  trial,  "  Vanity  of  vani- 
ties,'* faith  the  preacher,  "  Vanity  of  vanities  -,  all  is 
vanity  and  vexation  of  fpirit."  On  the  other  hand,  the 
foul  may  pofl'efs  fome  degree  of  happinefs,  under  all  the 
miferies  it  is  capable  of  fufrcring  from  external  and 
temporal  thin2;s.  Guilt  indeed  denies  it  this  fupport; 
but  if  there  be  no  intelline  broils,  no  anguilli  refuit- 
ing  from  its  own  reflexions,  not  all  the  vifible  things 
can  render  it  perfedly  mifcrable^  its  capacity  of  fuf- 
fering  is  not  put  to  its  utmoft  ftretch.  This  has  been 
attefted  by  the  experience  of  multitudes  who  have  fuf- 
fered  for  righteoufnefs  fake.  But,  O,  when  v/e  take 
a  furvey  of  invifible  things,  we  find  them  all  great  and 
majeftic,  not  only  equal  but  infinitely  fuperior  to  the 
moft  enlarged  powers  of  the  human  and  even  of  the 
angelic  nature.  In  the  eternal  world  the  great  Invifible 
dwells,  and  there  he  afts  with  his  own  immediate  hand. 
It  is  he  that  immediately  communicates  happinefs 
through  the  heavenly  regions;  and  it  is  his  immediate 
breath  that,  like  a  flream  of  brimftone,  kindles  the 
flames  of  hell :  whereas  in  the  prefent  world  he  rarel^^ 
communicates  happinefs,  and  inflicts  punilhment,  but 
by  the  tnftrumentality  of  creatures  •,  and  it  is  impoflible 
the  extremes  of  either  fhould  be  communicated  through 
this  channel.  This  the  infinite  God  alone  can  do,  and, 
though  in  the  future  world  he  will  ufe  his  creatures  to 
heighten  the  happinefs  or  mifery  of  each  other,  yet 
he  will  have  a  more  iijimediate  agency  in  them  him- 

felf. 


304  Thm^s  unfeen  to  be  Serm.  1 1 , 

felf.  He  will  communicate  happinefs  immediately 
from  himfelf,  the  infinite  fountain  of  it,  into  the  vef- 
fels  of  mercy  :  and  he  will  immediately  fhew  his  wrath, 
and  make  his  power  known  upon  the  vefTels  of  wrath. 
I  may  add,  that  thofe  creatures,  angels  and  devils, 
which  will  be  the  inftruments  of  happinefs  or  mifery 
to  the  human  foul  in  the  invifible  world,  are  incom- 
parably more  powerful  than  any  in  this;  and  confe- 
quently  capable  of  contributing  more  to  our  pleafure 
or  pain.  And  let  me  alfo  obferve,  that  all  the  objedls 
about  which  our  faculties  will  be  employed  then,  will 
be  great  and  majeftic  ;  whereas,  at  prefent,  we  grovel 
among  little  for-iia  things.  The  objeds  of  our  con- 
templation will  then  be  either  the  unveiled  glories  of. 
the  divine  nature,  and  the  paired  wonders  of  creation, 
providence,  and  redenipuoir,  or  the  terrors  of  divine 
juftice,  the  dreadful  nature  and  aggravations  of  our  fin, 
the  horrors  of  everlaft:ing  punifhment,  bzc.  And  fince 
this  is  the  cafe,  how  little  fhould  we  regard  the  things 
that  are  feen,  in  comp;irifon  of  them  that  are  not  feen  ^ 
But  though  v'fible  things  were  adequate  to  our  prefent 
capacities,  yet  they  are  not  to  be  compared  with  the 
things  that  are  not  feen,  becaufe, 

2.  The  foul  is  at  prefent  in  a  ftate  of  infancy,  and 
incapable  of  fuch  degrees  of  pleafure  or  pain  as  it  can 
bear  in  the  future  world.  The  enjoyments  of  this  life 
are  like  the  play-things  of  children ;  and  none  but 
childifh  fouls  would  trifle  v/ith  them,  or  fret  and  vex 
themfelves  or  one  another  about  them ;  but  the  invifi- 
ble  realities  before  us  are  manly  and  great,  and  fuch 
as  an  adult  foul  ought  to  concern  itfelf  with.  The 
foul  in  another  world  can  no  more  be  happy  or  mifera- 
"ble  from  fuch  toys,  than  men  can  be  happy  or  wretched 
in  the  poflcfllon  or  lofs  of  the  baubles  of  children ;  it 
will  then  demand  great  things  to  give  it  pleafure  or 
pain.  The  apoftle  illufi:rates  this  matter  in  this  man- 
ner. I.  Cor.  xiii.  9,  10,  11.  Flow  foolifh  is  it  then 
to  be  chiefly  governed  by  thefe  puerilities,  while  we 
neglcifl;  the  manly  concern  of  eternity,  that  can  make 

our 


Serm.  II.  preferred  to 'Things  feen.  305 

our  fouls  perfeftly  happy  or  miferable,  when  their 
powers  are  come  to  perfedion  ! 

3.  And  Jaflly,  All  the  happinefs  and  mifery  cf  rhe 
prefent  ftate,  refuking  from  things  that  are  (ttn^  are 
intermingled  with  contrary  ingredients.  We  are  never 
fo  happy  in  thJs  world,  as  to  have  no  uneafinefs  •,  in 
the  greateft  affluence  we  languifh  for  want  of  fome  ab- 
fentgood,  or  grieve  under  fome  incumbent  evil.  On 
the  other  hand,  we  are  never  fo  miferable  as  to  have 
no  ingredient  of  happinefs.  When  we  labour  under 
a  thoufand  calamities,  we  may  ftill  fee  ourfelves  flir- 
rounded  with,  perhaps,  an  equal  number  of  bleflings. 
And  where  is  there  a  wretch  fo  miferable  as  to  endure 
fimple  unmingled  mifery  without  one  comfortable  in- 
gredient .''  But  in  the  invlfib!^  world  there  is  an  eter- 
nal feparation  made  between  good  and  evil,  pleafure 
and  pain;  and  they  fhall  never  m.ingle  more.  In 
heaven  the  rivers  of  pleafures  flow  untroubled  with  a 
drop  of  forrow  -,  in  hell,  there  is  not  a  drop  of  water 
to  mitigate  the  fury  of  the  flame.  And  v/ho  then 
would  not  prefer  the  things  that  are  not  feen  to  thofe 
that  are  feen  ?     Efpecially,   if  we  confider, 

2.  The  infinite  difparity  between  them  as  to  dura- 
tion. This  is  the  difference  paticularly  intended  in 
the  text;  the  things  that  are  feen  are  temporal -,  but  the 
things  that  are  not  feen  are  eternal. 

The  tranlitorinefs  of  vifible  things,  implies,  both 
that  the  things  themfelves  are  perifhable,  and  they 
may  foon  leave  us ;  and  that  our  refidence  among 
them  is  temporary,  and  v/e  muft  foon  leave  them. 

And  the  eternity  of  invifible  things  implies  the 
quite  contrary,  that  the  things  themfelves  are  of  end- 
lefs  duration ;  and  that  we  fhall  always  exift  to  re- 
ceive happinefs  or  mifery  from  them. 

Before  we  illuftrate  thefe  inftances  of  difparity,  let 
us  take  a  view  of  Time  and  Eternity  in  themfelves, 
and  as  compared  to  one  another. 

Time  is  the  duration  of  creatures  in  the  prefent  (late, 
[t  commenced  ac  the  creation,  aod  near  6000  ve.irs  of 

R  r  'it 


3o6  Things  unfeen  to  be  Serm.  ii: 

it  are  fince  elapfed  ;  and  hov/  much  of  it  yet  remains 
we  know  not.     But  this  we  know,  that  the  duration  of 
the  world  itfelf  is  as  nothing  in  comparifon  of  eternity. 
But  what  is  our  duration  compared  with  the  duration 
even  of  this  world?   It  is  but  a  fpan,  an  hair's  breadth: 
lixty,  feventy,  or  eighty  years,  is  generally  the  higheft 
ftandard  of  human  life,  and  it  is  by  far  the  fmalleft  num- 
ber of  mankind  that  arrives  to  thefe  periods.     The 
moil-  of  them  die  like  a  flower  blafted  in  the  morning, 
or  at  noon;  and  we  have  more  reafon  to  expeft  it  will 
be  our  fate  than  to  hope  the  contrary.   Now  the  fpan  of 
time  we  enjoy  in  life  is  all  our  time;  we  have  no  more 
property  in  the  reft  of  it  than  in  the  years  before  the 
flood.     All  befide  is  eternity.     "Eternity!"    We  are 
.alarmed  at  the  found  !   boft  in  the  profped: !   Eternity 
with  refped:  to  God,  is  a  duration  without  beginning  as 
well  as  without  end  :  Eternity,  as  it  is  the  attribute  of 
human  nature,  is  a  duration  that  had  a  beginning  but 
fhall  never  have  an  end.     This  is  inalienably  entailed 
upon  us  poor  dying  worms  :  and  let  us  furvey  our  in- 
heritance.    Eternity !  it  is  a  duration  that  excludes  all 
number  and  computation  \  days,  and  months,  and  years, 
yea,  and  ages  are  loft  in  it,  like  drops  in  the  ocean. 
Millions  of  millions  of  years,  as  many  years  as  there 
are  fands  on  the  fea  fhore,  or  particles  of  duft  in  the 
globe  of  the  earth,  and  thefe  multiplied  to  the  higheft 
reach  of  number,  all  thefe  are  nothing  to  eternity. 
They  do  not  bear  the  leaft  imaginable  proportion  to 
it ;  for  thefe  will  come  to  an  end,  as  certain  as  a  day  ; 
but  eternity  will  never,  never  come  to  an  end.     It  is  a 
line  without  end  \  it  is  an  ocean  without  a  ftiore.  Alas ! 
what  ftiall  I  fay  of  it !    It  is  an  infinite  unknown  fome- 
thing,   that    neither  liuman  thought  can  grafp,   nor 
human  language  defcribe. 

Now  place  time  in  comparifon  with  eternity,  and 
what  is  it?  It  ftirinks  into  nothing,  and  lefs  than 
nothing.  What  then  is  that  little  fpan  of  time  in 
which  we  have  any  property  ?  Alas !  it  is  too  dimi- 
nutive a    point  to  be  conceived.     Indeed,  properly 

fpeaking. 


Serm.  ir.  preferred  to  Things  feen.  507 

fpeaking,  we  can  call  no  part  of  time  our  own  but  the 
prefent  moment,  this  fleeting  now:  future  time  is  un- 
certain, and  we  may  never  enjoy  it ;  the  breath  we  now 
refpire  may  be  our  laft ;  and  as  to  our  paft  time,  it  is 
gone,  and  will  never  be  ours  again.  Our  paft  days  are 
dead  and  buried,  though  perhaps  guilt,  their  ghoft,  may 
haunt  us  ftill.  And  what  is  a  moment  to  eternity  ? 
Th?  difparity  is  too  great  to  admit  of  comparifon. 

Let  me  now  refume  the  former  particulars,  implied 
in  the  tranfitorinefs  of  vifible  and  eternity  of  invifible 
things. 

Vifible  things  are  perifliable,  and  may  foon  leave  us. 
When  we  think  they  are  ours,  they  often  fly  from  our 
embrace.  Riches  may  vanifh  into  fmoke  and  alhcs 
by  an  accidental  fire.  YVe  may  be  thrown  down  from 
the  pinnacle  of  honour,  and  fink  the  lower  into  difgrace. 
Senfual  pleafures  often  end  in  fatiety  and  difguft,  or  in 
ficknefs  and  death.  Our  friends  are  torn  from  our 
bleeding  hearts  by  the  inexorable  hand  of  death.  Our 
liberty  and  property  may  be  wrefted  from  us  by  the 
hand  of  tyranny,  oppreflion,  or  fraud.  In  a  word,  what 
do  we  enjoy  but  we  may  lofe }  On  the  other  hand,  our 
miferies  here  are  temporary  -,  the  heaj-t  receives  many  a 
wound,  but  it  heals  again.  Poverty  may  end  in  riches ; 
a  clouded  charadler  may  clear  up,  and  from  difgrace  we 
may  rife  to  honour ;  we  may  recover  from  ficknefs ;  and 
if  we  lofe  one  comfort,  we  may  obtain  another.  But 
in  eternity  every  thing  is  everlafting  and  unchangeable. 
Happinefs  and  mifery  are  both  of  them  without  end  ; 
and  the  fubjefts  of  both  well  know  that  this  is  the  cafe. 
It  is  this  perpetuity  that  finifhes  that  happinefs  of  the 
inhabitants  of  heaven-,  the  leaft  fufpicion  of  an  end 
would  intermingle  itfelf  with  all  their  enjoyments,  and 
embitter  them;  and  the  greater  the  happinefs,  the 
greater  the  anxiety  at  the  expedlation  of  lofing  it.  But,  , 
O  how  tranfporting  for  the  faints  on  high  to  look  for- 
ward through  the  fucceffion  of  eternal  ages,  with  an 
aflurance  that  they  iliall  be  happy  through  them  all, 
^nd  that  they  fhall  fesl  no  change  but  from  glory  to  • 

glory  I 


3o8  Things  unfeen  to  he  Serm.  11/ 

glorj.' !  On  the  other  liand,  this  is  the  bittereft  ingre- 
dient in  the  cup  of  divine  difpleafu.re  in  the  future  ftate, 
that  the  mifery  is  eternal.  O  with  what  horror  does 
that  defpairing  cry,  Forever,  forever,  forever  !  echo 
througli  the  vaults  of  hell !  Eternity  is  fuch  an  import- 
ant attribute,  that  it  gives  infinite  weight  to  things  that 
■would  be  infignificant,  were  they  temporary.  A  fmall 
degree  of  happinefs,  if  it  be  eternal,  exceeds  the  greateft 
degree  that  is  tranfitory ;  and  a  fmall  degree  of  mifery 
that  is  everlafting,  of  greater  impoitance  than  the 
greateft  degree  that  foon  comes  to  an  end.  "Would  you 
rather  endure  the  mofi;  painful  tortures  thst  nature  can 
bear  for  a  moment,  than  an  eternal  tooth-ach  or  head- 
Jich .''  Again,  fhould  we  confider  all  the  ingredients  and 
caufes  of  future  happinefs  and  mifery,  we  fhould  find 
them  all  everlafting.  The  blefied  God  is  an  incxhaufti- 
hl^  perennial  fountain  of  blifs  -,  his  image  can  never  be 
crafed  from  the  hearts  of  glorified  fpirits  •,  the  great 
contemplation  will  always  lie  obvious  to  them  -,  and  they 
will  always  exift  as  the  partakers  and  promoters  of 
niuturl  blifs.  On  the  other  hand,  in  hell  the  worm  of 
confcience  dieth  not,  and  the  fire  is  not  quenched ;  di- 
vine juftice  is  immortal;  malignant  fpirits  will  always 
exift  as  mutual  tormentors,  and  their  v/icked  habits 
will  never  be  extirpated. 

And  now,  need  1  offer  any  thing  farther  to  convince 
you  of  the  fuperior  importance  of  invifible  and  eternal 
to  vifible  and  temporary  things  ^  Can  a  rational  crea- 
ture be  at  a  lofs  to  choofe  in  fo  plain  a  cafe  .^  Can  you 
need  any  arguments  to  convince  you  that  an  eternity  of 
the  moft  perfcffc  happinefs  is  rather  to  be  chofen  than  a 
few  years  of  fordid  unfatisfying  delight  ?  Or  that  the 
former  fhould  not  be  forfeited  for  the  fake  of  the  latter .'' 
Have  you  any  remaining  fcruples,  whether  the  little 
anxieties  rmd  mortifications  of  a  pious  life  are  more  in- 
tolerable than  everlafting  puniftiment .''  0 1  it  is  a  plain 
cafe :  what  then  mican  an  infatuated  world,  who  lay  out 
all  their  concern  on  temporal  things,  and  negled;  the 
important  affairs  of  eternity  ?     Let  us  illuftrate  this 

matter 


Serm.  II.  preferred  to  things  feen.  309 

matter  by  a  fuppofitlon.  Suppofe  a  bird  were  to  pick 
up  and  carry  away  a  grain  of  fand  or  duft  from  the 
globe  of  this  earth  once  in  a  thoufand  years,  til]  it  fhould 
be  at  length  wholly  carried  away  ;  the  duration  which 
this  would  take  up  appears  a  kind  of  eternity  to  us. 
Now  fuppofe  it  were  put  to  our  choice,  either  to  be 
happy  during  this  time,  and  miferab^e  ever  after,  or  to 
be  miferable  during  this  time,  and  happy  ever  after, 
which  would  you  choofe  ?  Why,  though  this  duration 
feems  endlefs,  yet  he  would  be  a  fool  that  would  not 
make  the  latter  choice;  for,  O  !  behind  this  vaft  dura- 
tion, there  lies  an  eternity,  which  exceeds  it  infinitely 
more  than  this  duration  exceeds  a  moment.  But  we 
have  no  fuch  feemingly  puzzling  choice  as  this  ;  the 
matter  with  us  ftands  thus — Will  you  choofe  the  little 
fordid  pleafures  of  fin  that  may  perhaps  not  lafl:  an  hour, 
at  moft  not  many  years,  rather  than  everlafliing  pleafure 
of  the  fublimeft  kind  .''  Will  you  rather  endure  into- 
lerable torment  forever,  than  painfully  endeavour  to  be 
holy  !  What  does  your  condud,  my  brethren,  anfwer 
to  thefe  queftions  ?  If  your  tongues  reply,  they  will 
perhaps  for  your  credit  give  a  right  anfwer;  but  what 
fay  your  prevailing  difpofition  and  common  practice  ? 
Are  you  not  more  thoughtful  for  time  than  eternity  ? 
more  concerned  about  vifible  vanities  than  invifible 
realities.''    If  fo,  you  make  a  fool's  choice  indeed. 

But  let  It  be  further  confidered,  that  the  tranfitorinefs 
of  invifible  things  may  imply  that  we  muft  erelong  be 
removed  from  them.  Though  tliey  were  immortal  it 
would  be  nothing  to  us,  fince  v/e  are  not  fo  in  our  pre- 
fent  ftate.  Within  a  few  years,  at  moft,  we  fhall  be 
beyond  the  reach  of  all  happinefs  and  mifery  from 
temporal  things. 

But  when  we  pafs  out  of  this  tranfitory  ftate,  we 
enter  upon  an  everlafting  ftate.  Our  fouls  will  always 
€xift-,  exift  in  a  ftate  of  unchangeable,  boundlcfs  hap- 
pinefs or  mifery.  It  is  but  a  little  while  fince  we  came 
into  being  out  of  a  ftate  of  eternal  non-exiftence;  but 
v.-e ihall  never  relapfe  into  that  ftate  again.    Thefe  little 

fparlis 


310  Things  unfeen  to  he  Serm.  i  r. 

Iparks  of  being  {hall  never  be  extinguifhed  ;  they  will 
furvive  the  ruins  of  the  world,  and  kindle  into  immor- 
tality. When  millions  of  millions  of  ages  are  paft,  we 
ftiall  ftili  be  in  exiilencc,  and  O !  in  what  unknown  re- 
gion? Inthatof  endlefs  blifs,  or  of  interminable  mifery ! 
• — Be  this  the  moft  anxious  inquiry  of  our  lives  ! 

Seeing  then  we  mufi:  foon  leave  this  world,  and  all 
its  joys  and  forrows,  and  feeing  we  muft  enter  on  an 
unchangeable  everlafting  ftate  of  happinefs  or  inifery, 
be  it  our  chief  concern  to  end  our  prefent  pilgrimage 
well.  It  matters  but  little  whether  we  lie  eafy  or  not 
during  this  night  of  exigence,  if  fo  be  we  awake  in 
eternal  day.  It  is  but  a  trifle,  hardly  worth  a  thought, 
whether  we  be  happy  or  miferable  here,  if  we  be  happy 
for  ever  hereafter.  What  then  mean  the  buftle  and 
noife  of  mankind  about  the  things  of  time?  O,  iirs  ! 
eternity,  awful  all-important  eternity,  is  the  only  thing 
that  deferves  a  thought.     I  come, 

11.  To  (hew  the  great  and  happy  influence  a  fuitable 
impreflion  of  the  fuperior  importance  of  invifible  to 
viiible  things  would  have  upon  us.  This  I  might  ex- 
emplify in  a  variety  of  infl:ances  with  refpecT:  to  faints 
and  finners. 

When  we  are  tempted  to  any  unlawful  pleafures, 
how  would  we  (brink  away  with  horror  from  the  pur* 
fuit,  had  we  a  due  fenfe  of  the  mifery  incurred,  and  the 
happinefs  forfeited  by  it  i 

When  we  find  our  hearts  exceflively  eager  after 
things  below,  had  v/e  a  fuitable  view  of  eternal  things, 
all  thefe  things  would  fhrink  into  trifles  hardly  worth  a 
thought,  much  lefs  our  principal  concern. 

When  the  (inner,  for  the  fake  of  a  little  prefent 
eafe,  and  to  avoid  a  little  prefent  uneafinefs,  flifies  his 
confcience,  refufes  to  examine  his  condition,  cafts  the 
thoughts  of  eternity  out  of  his  mind,  and  thinks  it  too 
hard  to  attend  painfuilv  on  all  the  means  of  grace,  has  he 
then  a  due  eftimate  of  eternal  things  ?  Alas  !  no ;  he 
only  looks  at  the  things  that  are  feen.  Were  thd  mouth 
of  hell  open  before  him,  that  he  might  behold  its  tor- 
ments, 


Serm.  II.  preferred  to  things  feen.  311 

jnents,  and  had  he  a  fight  of  the  joys  of  paradlfe,  they 
would  harden  him  into  a  generous  infenribiiity  of  all  the 
forrows  and  anxieties  of  this  life,  and  his  inquiry  would 
not  be,  Whether  thefe  things  required  of  him  are  eafy  ? 
but,  "Whether  they  are  nccellary  to  obtain  eternal  hap- 
pinefs,  and  avoid  everlafting  mifery  ? 

When  "\ve  fuffer  any  reproach  or  contempt  on  a  re- 
ligious account,  how  would  a  due  eftimate  of  eternal 
things  fortify  us  with  undaunted  courage,  and  make  us 
willing  to  climb  to  heaven  through  difgrace,  rather  than 
fink  to  hell  with  general  applaufe! 

Hov/  would  a  realizing  view  of  eternal  things  animate 
us  in  our  devotions  ?  V/ere  this  thought  impreffed  on 
our  hearts  v/hen  in  the  fecret  or  focial  duties  of  religion, 
"  I  am  now  adling  for  eternity,"  do  you  think  we  fhould 
pray,  read,  or  hear  with  fo  much  indifferency  and  lan- 
guor ?  O  no ;  it  would  roufe  us  out  of  our  dead  frames, 
and  call  forth  all  the  vigour  of  our  fouls.  With  what 
unwearied  importunity  fhould  v/e  cry  to  God !  with 
what  eagernefs  hear  the  word  of  falvaticn ! 

How  powerful  an  influence  would  a  view  of  futurity 
have  to  alarm  the  fecure  finner  that  has  thought  little 
of  eternity  all  his  life,  though  it  be  the  only  thing 
worth  thinking  of! 

How  would  it  haften  the  determination  of  the  lin- 
gering, wavering  finner,  and  fliock  him  at  the  thought  of 
hving  one  day  unprepared  on  the  very  brink  of  eternity  I 

In  a  word,  a  fuitable  impreffion  of  this  would  quite 
alter  the  afpeft  of  things  in  the  v/orld,  and  would  turn 
the  concern  and  adcivity  of  the  world  into  another 
channel.  Eternity  then  would  be  the  principal  concern. 
Our  inquiries  would  not  be.  Who  will  fliew  us  any 
temporal  good  ?  What  fhall  we  eat,  or  what  fhall  we 
drink  ^.  But,  What  fhall  we  do  to  be  (lived  ?  How 
fhall  we  efcape  the  v/rath  to  come  ?  Let  us  then  endea- 
vour to  imprefs  our  hearts  with  invifible  things,  and 
for  that  purpofe  confider,  that 

We  fhall,  ere  long,  be  ingulphed  in  this  awful  eter- 
"    nity,  whether  we  think  of  it  or  not.     A  few  days  or 

years 


3 1 2  The  Jacred  Import  of  Ser m.  1 2 . 

years  will  launch  us  there;  and  O,  the  furprifing fcenes 
that  will  then  open  to  us ! — 

Without  deep  impreffions  of  eternity  on  our  hearts, 
and  frequent  thoughtfulnefs  about  it,  wc  cannot  be 
prepared  for  it. 

And  if  we  are  not  prepared  for  it,  O,  how  incon- 
ceivably mlferable  our  cafe !  But  if  prepared,  how 
inconceivably  happy  I 

Lwk  not  then  at  the  things  which  are  feen^  hut  at  the 
things  which  are  not  feen  •,  for  the  things  which  are  feen  are 
temporal:  but  the  things  which  are  not  feen  are  eternal. 


SERMON     XII. 

The  Sacred  Import  of  the  Chriftian  Name. 


Acts  xi.  26.    The  Difciples  were  called  Chrifiians  firfi 
at  Antioch. 

ERE  names  are  empty  founds,  and  but  of  little 
_  confequence  •.  and  yet  it  muft  be  owned  there 

are  names  of  honour  and  fignificancy;  and,  when  they 
are  attended  with  the  things  fignified  by  them,,  they  are 
of  great  and  facred  importance.  Such  is  the  Chriftian 
name;  a  name  about  feventeen  hundred  years  old. 
And  now,  when  the  name  is  almoft  loft  in  party-dif- 
tindions,  and  the  thing  is  almoft  loft  in  ignorance,  er- 
ror, vice,  hypocrify,  and  formality,  it  may  be  worth 
our  while  to  confider  the  original  import  of  that  facred 
name,  as  a  proper  expedient  to  recover  both  name  and 
thing. 

The  name  of  Chriftian  was  not  the  firft  by  which  the 
followers  of  Chrift  were  diftinguiftied.  Their  enemies 
called  them  Galileans,  Nazarenes,  and  other  names  of 
contempt :    and  among  themfelves  they  v/ere  called 

Sainto, 


Serm.  12.  the  Chriftian  Name.  ^ig 

Saints,  from  their  holinefs  •,  Difciples,  from  their  learn- 
ing their  rehgion  from  Chrift  as  their  teacher-.  Belie- 
vers, from  their  beheving  in  him  as  the  Mefliah  •,  and 
Brethren,  from  their  mutual  love  and  their  relation  to 
God  and  each  other.  But  after  fome  time  they  were 
diftinguiflied  by  the  name  of  Chriftians.  This  they 
firfl:  received  in  Antioch,  an  heathen  city,  a  city  infa- 
mous for  all  manner  of  vice  and  debauchery;  a  city 
that  had  its  name  from  Antiochus  Epiphanes,  the 
bittereft  enemy  the  church  of  the  Jews  ever  had.  A 
city  very  rich  and  powerful,  from  whence  the  chrif- 
tian name  v/ould  have  an  extenfive  circulation ;  but  it 
is  long  fince  laid  in  ruins,  unprote6led  by  that  facred. 
name :  in  fuch  a  city  was  Chrift  pleafed  to  confer  his 
name  upon  his  followers :  and  you  cannot  but  fee  that 
the  very  choice  of  the  place  difcovers  his  wifdom, 
grace,  and  juftice. 

The  original  word,  which  is  here  rendered  celled^ 
feems  to  intimate,  that  they  were  called  chriftians  by 
divine  appointment,  for  it  generally  fignihes  an  ora- 
cular nomination,  or  a  declaration  from  God  ;  and  to 
this  purpofe  it  is  generally  tranflated.*  Hence  it  fcl-. 
lows,  that  the  very  name  chriftian,  as  well  as  the  thing, 
was  a  divine  original  •,  afllimed  not  by  a  private  agree- 
ment of  the  difciples  among  themfelves,  but  by  the 
appointment  of  God.  And  in  this  view  it  is  a  re- 
markable accompliftimentof  anold  prophecy  of  Ifaiah, 
chapter  Ixii.  2.    T^he  Gentiles  Jhall  fee  thy  righteoufnefsy 

S  s  and 

*  It  is  this  word  that  is  ufed,  Matt.  ii.  12.  Ka/;)(;pwf/-aIi9£VTE?,  being 
warned  of  God,  and  the  like  in  Matt.  ii.  22.  So  in  Rom.  xi.  4. 
;i(;(!r/M,al»3-/:A05,  is  rendered  the  anfwer  of  God.  Rom.vii.3.  ;)^pyifA«Iio-£j, 
fhe  Ihail  be  called  {'viz.  by  the  divine  law)  an  adultrefs.  Luke  ii.  26. 
p^jpufAalio-jUOK,  it  was  revealed  to  him  by  the  Holy  Ghoil.  A£ls  x,  22. 
!%p'5|0(.«li^e,  was  warned  from  God.  Heb.  viii.  5.  Ki^pr, (jLocliraa  Mwo-^?, 
Mofes  was  admonifhed  of  God.  Heb.  xi.  7.  Noah  being  warned  of 
God,  ^otif/'OtlSet;.  Heb.  xii.  25.  If  they  efcaped  not,  whorefufed. 
Him  that  fpake  on  earth  ;  'viz.  by  divine  infpiration  ;  xP''/**''^^'''^'* 
S7/-I  ri)i;.  Thefe  are  all  the  places  perhaps  in  which  the  word  is  ufed 
in  the  New  Teftament ;  and  in  all  thefe  it  feems  to  mean  a  revelatiou 
from  God,  or  fomething  oracular.  And  this  is  a  ftrong  prefuntiption 
that  the  word  is  to  be  fo  underftood  in  the  text. 


3-4  The  f acred  Import  of  Si;rm.  12;^ 

a7td  all  Kings  thy  glory,  and  thou  Jhalt  he'  called  by  a 
new  name,  which  the 'mouth  of  the  Lord  jhalhiame.  So 
Jfaiah  Ixv.  1 5.  The  Lord  jhall  call  his  ferv ants  by  an- 
other name. 

This  name  was  at  firft  confined  to  few ;  but  it  foon 
had  a  furprifingly  extenfive  propagation  thro'  the  world. 
In  many  countries,  indeed,  it  was  loft,  and  miferably 
exchanged  for  that  of  Heathen,  Mahometan,  or  Muf- 
fulman.  Yet  the  European  nations  ftill  retain  the  honor 
of  wearing  it.  A  few  fcattered  chriftians  are  alfo  ftill 
to  be  found  here  and  there  in  Afia  and  Africa,  though 
cruflied  under  the  oppreftions  of  Mahometans  and 
Pagans.  This  name  has  likewife  crofted  the  wide 
ocean  to  the  wildernefs  of  America,  and  is  worn  by 
the  fundry  European  colonies  on  this  continent.  We, 
in  particular,  call  ourfelves  chriftians,  and  ftiould  take 
it  ill  to  be  denied  the  honour  of  that  diftindlion.  But 
do  we  not  know  the  meaning  and  facred  import  of 
that  name  }  Do  we  not  know  what  it  is  to  be  chrif- 
tains  indeed  .^  That  is,  to  be  in  reality  what  we  are  in 
name :  certainly  it  is  time  for  us  to  conftder  the  matter ; 
and  it  is  my  prefent  defign  that  we  ftiould  do  fo. 

Now  we  may  conftder  this  name  in  various  views  : 
particularly  as  a  name  of  diftinClion  from  the  reft  of 
the  world,  who  know  not  the  Lord  Jefus,  or  rejedl 
him  as  an  impoftor  •,  —  as  a  patronymic  name,  point- 
ing out  the  Father  and  Founder  of  our  holy  religion 
and  the  chriftain  church  ; — as  a  badge  of  our  relation 
to  Chrift  as  his  fervants,  his  children,  his  bride; — as 
intimating  ourundllon  by  the  holy  fpirit,  or  our  being 
the  fubje6ls  of  his  influences;  as  Chrift  was  anointed 
by  the  holy  fpirit,  or  repleniftied  with  his  gifts  above 
meafure  (for  you  are  to  obferve  that  anointed  is  the 
Englifti  of  the  Greek  nam.e  Chrifl,  and  of  the  Hebrew, 
Mejfiah*)  :  and  as  a  name  of  appropriation,  fignifying 
that  we  are  the  property  of  Chrift,  and  his  peculiar 
people.     Each  of  thefe  particulars  might  be  profitably 

illuf- 

*  Pfalmcv.  15.  Touch  not  my  Chritts  J  that  is,  niy  anointed 
people. — So  the  Seve/jfj. 


Serm,  12.  the  Chrijiian  Name.  315 

illuftrated.*  But  my  prefent  defign  confines  me  to 
confider  the  Chriftian  name  only  in  two  views  -,  name- 
ly, as  a  catholic  name,  intended  to  bury  all  party  de- 
nominations ;  and  as  a  name  of  obligation  upon  all  that 
wear  it  to  be  chriftians  indeed,  or  to  form  their  temper 
and  pradice  upon  the  facred  model  of  chriftianity. 

I.  Let  us  confider  the  chriftian  name  as  a  catholic 
name,  intended  to  bury  all  party  denominations. 

The  name  Gentile  was  odious  to  the  Jews,  and  the 
name  Jew  was  odious  to  the  Gentiles.  The  name 
chriftian  fwallows  up  both  in  one  common  and  agree- 
able appellation.  He  that  hath  taken  down  the  parti- 
tion-wall, has  taken  away  partition-names,  and  untied 
all  his  followers  in  his  own  name,  as  a  common  deno- 
mination. For  now,  fays  Paul,  there  is  neither  Greek 
nor  Jew^  circumci/ion  nor  uncircumcifion^  barharian^  Scy- 
thian, bond  nor  free  •■,  but  Chrijl  is  all  and  in  all.  Col. 
iii.  II.  Andjy<?  are  all  one  in  Chriji  Jefus.  Gal.  iii. 
28.  According  to  a  prophecy  of  Zechariah,  The  Lord 
Jhall  be  king  over  all  the  earth ;  and  in  that  day  there 
Jhall  be  one  Lord,  and  his  name  one.  Zech.  xiv.  9. 

It  is  but  a  due  honour  to  Jefus  Chrift,  the  founder 
of  chriftianity,  that  all  who  profefs  his  religion  ftiould 
wear  his  name :  and  they  pay  an  extravagant  and  even 
idolatrous  compliment  to  his  fubordinate  officers  and 
minifters,  when  they  take  their  denomination  from 
them.  Had  this  humour  prevailed  in  the  primitive 
church,  inftead  of  the  common  name  chriftians,  there 
vv^ould  have  been  as  many  party-names  as  there  were 
apoftles  or  eminent  minifters.  There  would  have 
been  Paulites  from  Paul  \  Peterites  from  Peter  \  John- 
ites  from  John;  Barnabites  from  Barnabas,  &c.  Paul 
took  pains  to  crufti  the  firft  rifings  of  this  party-fpirit 
in  thofe  churches  which  he  planted ;  particularly  in 
Corinth,  where  it  moft  prevailed.  While  they  were 
faying,  I  am  of  Paul;  and  1  of  Jpollos ;  and  I  of  Ce- 
phas ; 

•\  See  a  fine  illuftration  of  them  in  Dr.  Grofvenor's  excellent  EiTay 
on  the  Chriftian  Name ;  from  v.  hom  I  am  not  alhamed  to  borrow 
fever.1l  an^.iable  fentime.^rs. 


2i6  The  facred  lmpo7't  of  Serm.  12/ 

fkas;  mid  I  of  Chrijl,  he  puts  this  pungent  queftion  to 
them:  "  Is  Chrift  divided?  Are  his  fervants  the 
ringleaders  of  fo  many  parties  ?  Was  Paul  crucified 
for  you  ?  or  were  ye  baptized  in  or  into  the  name  of 
Paul,  that  ye  fhould  be  fo  fond  to  take  your  name  from 
him  ?  He  counted  it  a  happinefs  that  providence  had 
directed  him  to  fuch  a  condudl  as  gave  no  umbrage  of 
encouragement  to  fuch  a  humour.  /  thank  God^  fays 
he,  that  I  baptized  none  of  you,  hut  Crifpus  and  Gaius  : 
lefi  any  jhould  take  occ  a/ton  to  fay,  I  baptized  into  my  own 
name,  and  was  gathering  a  party  for  myfelf.  i  Cor.  i. 
12—15. 

But  alas !  how  little  has  this  convidlive  reafoning  of 
the  apoftle  been  regarded  in  the  future  ae;es  of  tlie 
church  .''  What  an  endlefs  variety  of  denominations 
taken  from  fome  men  of  charafter,  or  from  fome  little 
peculiarities,  has  prevailed  in  the  chriftian  world,  and 
crumbled  it  to  pieces,  while  the  chriftian  name  is  hardly 
regarded  ?  Not  to  take  notice  of  Jefuits,  Janfenifts, 
Dominicans,  Francifcans,  and  other  denominations  and 
orders  in  the  popifh  church,  where,  having  corrupted 
the  thing,  they  aft  very  confiftently  to  lay  afide  \\\^ 
name,  what  party-names  have  been  adopted  by  the 
proteftant  churches,  whofe  religion  is  fubftantially  the 
fame  common  chriftianity,and  who  agree  in  much  more 
important  articles  tlian  in  thofe  they  differ;  and  who 
therefore  might  peaceably  unite  under  the  common 
name  of  Chriftians  ?  We  have  Lutlierans,  Calvinifts, 
Arminians,  Zuinghans,  Churchmen,  Prefbyterians,  In- 
dependents, Baptifts,  and  a  long  lift  of  names  which  I 
cannot  now  enumerate.  To  be  a  chriftian  is  not  enough 
now-a-days,  but  a  man  muft  alfo  be  fomething  more 
and  better-,  that  is,  he  muft  be  a  ftrenuous  bigot  to  this 
or  that  particular  church.  But  where  is  the  reafon  or 
propriety  of  this?  I  may  indeed  believe  the  fame 
things  which  Luther  or  Calvin  believed  ;  but  I  do  not 
believe  them  on  the  authority  of  Luther  or  Calvin,  but 
upon  the  fole  authority  of  Jefus  Chrift,  and  therefore 
I  fliould  not  call  myfelf  by  their  name,  as  one  of  their 

difciples, 


Serm.  i2i  the  Chrlfiian  Name.  317 

difciples,  but  by  the  name  of  Chrift,  whom  alone  I  ac- 
knowledge as  the  Author  of  my  religion,  and  my  only 
matter  and  Lord.  If  I  learn  my  religion  from  one  of 
thefe  great  men,  it  is  indeed  proper  I  ihould  adlime 
their  name.  If  I  learn  it  from  a  parliament  or  con- 
vocation, and  make  their  a6ls  and  canons  the  rule  and 
ground  of  my  faith,  then  it  is  enough  for  me  to  be  of 
the  eftablifhed  religion,  be  that  what  it  will :  I  may  with 
propriety  be  called  a  mere  conformift;  that  is  my  higheft 
chara6ter-,  but  I  cannot  be  properly  called  a  chriftian ; 
for  a  chriftian  learns  his  religion,  not  from  afts  of  par- 
liament or  from  the  determinations  of  councils,  but 
from  Jefus  Chrift  and  his  gofpel. 

To  guard  againft  miftakes  on  this  head,  I  would 
obferve  that  every  man  has  a  natural  and  legal  right  to 
judge  and  choofe  for  himfelf  in  matters  of  religion;  and 
that  is  a  mean  fupple  foul  indeed,  and  utterly  carelefs 
about  all  religion,  that  makes  a  compliment  of  this  right 
to  any  man,  or  body  of  men  upon  earth,  whether  pope, 
king,  parliament,  convocation,  or  fynod.  In  the  ex- 
crcife  of  this  right,  and  fearching  for  himfelf,  he  will 
find  that  he  agrees  more  fully  in  leffer  as  well  as  more 
important  articles  with  fome  particular  church  than 
others  ;  and  thereupon  it  is  his  duty  to  join  in  ftated 
communion  with  that  church-,  and  he  may,  if  he 
pleafes,  aflume  the  name  which  that  church  wears,  by 
way  of  diftindtion  from  others  :  this  is  not  what  I  con- 
demn. But  for  me  to  glory  in  the  denomination  of 
any  particular  church,  as  my  higheft  charadter ;  to  lay 
more  ftrefs  upon  the  name  of  a  prefbyterian  or  a  church- 
man than  on  the  facred  name  of  chriftian  ;  to  make  a 
punftilious  agreement  with  my  fentiments  in  the  little 
peculiarities  of  a  party  the  teft  of  all  religion  -,  to  make 
it  the  objedt  of  my  zeal  to  gain  profelytes  to  fome  other 
than  the  chriftian  name  j  to  connive  at  the  faults  of 
thofe  of  my  own  party,  and  to  be  blind  to  the  good 
qualities  of  others,  or  invidioufly  to  mifreprefent  or 
dirainifh  them ;  thefe  are  the  things  which  deferve  uni- 
'^erfil  condemnation  from  God  and  man  \  thefe  proceed 

from 


3i8  ^he  j acred  Import  of  Serm.  12. 

from  a  fpirit  of  bigotry  and  faftion,  diredly  oppofite  to 
the  generous  catholic  fpirit  of  cliriftianity,  and  fubver- 
five  of  it.  And  yet  hov/  common  is  this  fpirit  among 
all  denominations!  And  what  mifchief  has  it  done  in 
the  world  '  Hence  proceed  contentions  and  animofities, 
Uncharitable  fufpicions  and  cenfures,  flander  and  detrac- 
tion, partiality  and  unreafonable  prejudices,  and  a  hideous 
group  of  evils,  which  I  cannot  now  defcribe.  This  fpi- 
rit alfo  hinders  the  progrefs  of  ferious  pra6lical  religion, 
by  turning  the  attention  of  men  from  the  great  concerns 
of  eternity,  and  the  eflentials  of  cliriftianity,  to  vain 
jangling  and  conteft  about  circumftances  and  trifles. 
Thus  the  chriftian  is  fvvallowed  up  in  the  partifan,  and 
fundamentals  loft  in  extra-efientials. 

My  brethren,  I  would  now  warn  you  againft  this 
■\^'retched  mifchievous  fpirit  of  party.  I  would  not  have 
you  entirely  fceptical  and  undetermined  even  about  the 
imaller  points  of  religion,  the  modes  and  forms,  which 
are  the  matters  of  contention  between  different  churches; 
nor  would  I  have  you  quite  indifferent  what  particular 
church  to  join  with  in  ftated  communion.  Endeavour 
to  lind  out  the  truth,  even  in  thefe  circumftantials,  at 
leaft  fo  far  as  is  neceffary  for  the  'dire6lion  of  your  own 
conduct.  But  do  not  make  thefe  the  whole  or  the  prin- 
cipal part  of  your  religion :  do  not  be  exceffively  zealous 
about  them,  nor  break  the  peace  of  the  church  by  ma- 
gifterially  impofing  them  upon  others.  '  Haft  thou 
faith  in  thefe  little  difputables,'  It  is  well  •,  '  but  have 
it  to  thyfelf  before  God,'  and  do  not  difturb  others  with 
it.  You  may,  if  you  pleafe,  call  yourfelves  prefbyterians 
and  diiienters,  and  you  ftiall  bear  without  fhame  or  re- 
fcntnient  all  the  names  of  reproach  and  contempt  which 
the  world  may  brand  you  with.  But  as  you  fhould  not 
be  mortified  en  the  one  fide,  fo  neither  ftiould  you  glory 
on  the  other.  A  chriftian  !  a  chriftian !  let  that  be  your 
higheft  diftinftion;  let  that  be  the  name  which  you  la- 
bour to  defervc.  God  forbid  that  my  miniftry  ftiould 
be  the  occaiion  of  diverting  your  attention  to  any  thing 
elfe.   But  I  am  fo  happy  that  I  can  appeal  to  yourfelves, 

whether 


Serm.  12.  the  Chrijlian  Name.  ^icj 

whether  I  have  during  feveral  years  of  niy  miniftry 
among  you,  laboured  to  inilil  into  you  the  principles 
of  bigotry,  and  make  you  warm  profelytes  to  a  party: 
or  whether  it  has  not  been  the  great  objed  of  my  zeal 
to  inculcate  upon  you  the  grand  efientials  of  our  holy 
religion,  and  make  you  iincere  pradical  chriftians. 
Alas  !  my  dear  people,  unlefs  I  fucceed  in  this,  I  labour 
to  very  little  purpofe,  though  I  fhould  'prefbyterianize 
the  whole  colony. 

Calumny  and  flander  it  is  hoped,  have  by  this  time 
talked  themfelves  out  of  breath  -,  and  the  lying  fpirit 
may  be  at  a  lofs  for  materials  to  form  a  popular  plau- 
fible  falfehood,  which  is  likely  to  be  credited  where  the 
diffenters  are  known.  But  you  have  heard  formerly,  and 
fome  of  you  may  ftill  hear  i^  range  and  uncommon  fur- 
mifes,  wild  conjeftures,  and  moll;  difmal  infinuations. 
Bat  if  you  would  know  the  truth  at  once,  if  you  would 
be  fully  informed  by  one  that  bell  knows  what  religion 
I  am  of,  I  will  tell  you  (with  Mr.  Baxter)  '  I  am  a  chrif- 
tian,  a  mere  chriflian  -,  of  no  other  religion  :  my  church 
is  the  chriftian  church.'  The  Bible!  the  Bible  !  is, my 
religion ;  and  if  I  am  a  diflenter,  I  dilTent  only  from 
modes  and  forms  of  religion  which  I  cannot  find  in 
my  Bible ;  and  which  therefore  I  conclude  have  no- 
thing to  do  with  religion,  much  lefs  fhould  they  be 
ma.de  terms  of  chrifiiian  communion,  fince  Chrifr,  the 
only  lawgiver  of  his  church,  has  not  made  them  fuch. 
Let  this  congregation  be  that  of  a  chriftian  fociety,  and 
I  little  care  what  othet  name  it  wears.  Let  it  be  a  little 
Antioch,  where  the  followers  of  Chrift  fhall  be  diftin- 
guifhed  by  their  old  catholic  name,  Chriftians.  To 
bear  and  deferve  this  characfter,  let  this  be  our  ambition, 
this  our  labour.  Let  popes  pronounce,  and  councils 
decree  what  they  pleafe ;  let  ftatefmen  and  ecclefiaftics 
prefcribe  what  to  believe :  as  for  us,  let  us  ftudv  our 
Bibles  :  let  us  learn  of  Chrift ;  and  if  we  are  not. digni- 
fied with  the  fmiles,  or  enriched  with  the  emoluments 
of  an  eftabliftiment,  we  fhall  have  his  approbation,  v;ho 
is  the  only  Lord  and  Sovereign  of  the  realm  of  con- 

fcience, 


320  'The  facred  Import  of  Serm.  12. 

Science,  and  by  whofe  judgment  we  muft  ftand  or  fall 
for  ever. 

But  it  is  time  for  me  to  proceed  to  confider  the  other 
view  of  the  chriftian  name,  on  which  I  intend  princi- 
pally to  infiftj  and  that  is, 

II.  As  a  name  of  obligation  upon  all  that  wear  it  to 
be  chriftians  indeed,  or  to  form  their  temper  and  prac- 
tice upon  the  facred  model  of  chriftianity.  The  pro- 
fecution  of  this  fubjed  will  lead  me  to  anfwer  this  im.- 
portant  inquiry,  What  is  it  to  be  a  Chriftian  ? 

To  be  a  chriftian,  in  the  popular  and  faftiionable  {cnk, 
is  no  difficult  or  excellent  thing.  It  is  to  be  baptized, 
to  profefs  the  chriftian  religion,  to  believe,  like  our 
neighbours,  that  Chrift  is  the  Meffiah,  and  to  attend 
upon  public  worfhip  once  a  week,  in  fome  church  or 
other  that  bears  only  the  chriftian  name.  In  this  fenfe 
a  man  may  be  a  chriftian,  and  yet  be  habitually  carelefs 
about  eternal  things  j  a  chriftian,  and  yet  fall  ftiort  of 
the  morality  of  many  of  the  heathens  -,  a  chriftian,  and 
yet  a  drunkard,  a  fwearer,  or  a  flave  to  fome  vice  or 
other;,  a  chriftian,  and  yet  a  v/ilful  impenitent  oft^ender 
againft  God  and  man.  To  be  a  chriftian  in  this  fenfe 
is  no  high  charader ;  and,  if  this  be  the  whole  of 
chriftianity,  it  is  very  little  matter  whether  the  world 
be  chriftianized  or  not.  But  is  this  to  be  a  chriftian 
in  t\\&  original  and  proper  fenfe  of  the  word  ^  No  -, 
that  is  fomething  of  a  very  different  and  fuperior  kind. 
To  be  a  chriftian  indeed,  is  the  higheft  charadler  and 
dignity  of  which  the  human  nature  is  capable :  it  is  thQ 
moft  excellent  thing  that  ever  adorned  our  world  :  it 
is  a  thing  that  Heaven  itfelf  beholds  with  approbation 
and  delight. 

To  be  a  chriftian  is  to  be  like  to  Chrift,  from  whom 
the  name  is  taken :  it  is  to  be  a  follower  and  imitator 
of  him ;  to  be  pofi'efted  of  his  fpirit  and  temper;  and  to 
live  as  he  lived  in  the  world :  it  is  to  have  thofe  juft, 
exalted,  and  divine  notions  of  God  and  divine  things, 
and  that  juft  and  full  view  of  our  duty  to  God  and  man, 
which  Chrift  taught :  in  fhort,  it  is  to  have  our  fenti- 

ments. 


§erm.ia>  the  Chrijiian  Name:  321 

ments,  our  temper,  and  praflice  formed  upon  the  facred 
model  of  the  gofpel.  Let  me  expatiate  a  little  upon 
this  amiable  charafter. 

I.  To  be  a  chriftian,  is  to  depart  from  iniquity.  To 
this  the  name  obliges  us ;  and  without  this  we  have  no 
title  to  the  name ; — Let  every  one  that  nameth  the  name 
of  Chrift^  depart  from  iniquity^  2  Tim.  ii.  19  ;  that  is, 
let  him  depart  from  iniquity,  or  not  dare  to  touch  that 
facred  name.  Chrill  was  perfectly  free  from  fin ;  he 
was  holy^  harmlefs,  undefiled^  and  fepar ate  from  fmners. 
His  followers  alfo  fhall  be  perfedtly  free  from  fin  in  2 
little  time ;  ere  long  they  will  enter  into  the  pure  regions 
of  perfed:  holinefs,  and  will  drop  all  their  fins,  with 
their  mortal  bodies,  into  the  grave.  But  this,  alas  !  is 
not  their  characfler  in  the  prcfent  ftate,  but  the  remains 
of  fin  ftill  cleave  to  them.  Yet,  even  in  the  prefenc 
ftate,  they  are  labouring  after  perfedion  in  holinefs. 
Nothing  can  fatisfy  them  until  they  are  conformed  to 
the  image  of  God's  dear  Son.  They  are  hourly  con- 
flidling  with  every  temptation,  and  vigoroufly  refift- 
ing  every  iniquity  in  its  moft  alluring  forms.  And, 
though  fin  is  perpetually  ftruggling  for  the  maftery, 
and  fometimes  in  an  inadvertent  hour,  gets  an  ad- 
vantage over  them,  yet,  as  they  are  not  under  the 
law,  but  -under  grace,  they  are  affiflied  with  recruits  of 
grace,  fo  that  no  fin  has  any  habitual  dominion  over 
them.  Rom.  vi.  14.  Herice  they  are  free  from  the 
grofs  vices  of  the  age,  and  are  men  of  good  morals. 
This  is  their  habitual  univerfal  charader  •,  and  to  pre- 
tend to  be  chriftians  without  this  requifite,  is  the 
greateft  abfurdity. 

What  then  fhall  we  think  of  the  drunken,  fwearing, 
debauched,  defrauding,  rakifh,  profligate,  profane  chrif- 
tians, that  have  over-run  the  chriftian  world  ?  Can 
there  be  a  greater  contradidlion  ?  A  loyal  fubjeft  in 
arms  againft  his  fovereign,  an  ignorant  fcholar,  a  fober 
drunkard,  a  charitable  mifer,  an  honeft  thief,  is  not  a 
greater  abfurdity,  or  a  more  diredl  contradidion.  To 
depart  from  iniquity  is  eflential  to  chriftianity,and  with- 

T  t  out 


^22  .  ^he  facred  Import  of  Serm.  12. 

out  it,  there  can  be  no  fuch  thing.  There  was  nothing 
that  Chrid  was  To  remote  from  as  fin ;  and  therefore 
for  thofe  tlmt  indulge  themfelves  in  it  to  wear  his  name, 
is  juft  as  abfurd  and  ridiculous  as  for  a  coward  to  deno- 
minate himfelf  from  Alexander  the  Great,  or  an  illite- 
rate dunce  to  call  himfelf  a  Newtonian  philofopher. 
.  Therefore,  if  you  will  not  renounce  iniquity,  renounce 
the  chriillan  name-,  for  you  cannot  confiftently  retain 
both.  Alexander  had  a  fellow  in  his  army  that  was  of 
his  own  name,  but  a  mere  coward.  "  Either  be  like 
me,'*  fays  Alexander,  "  or  lay  afide  my  name."  Ye 
fervants  of  fin,  it  is  in  vain  for  you  to  wear  the  name  of 
Chrift,  it  renders  you  the  more  ridiculous,  and  aggra-, 
vates  your  guilt:  you  may  with  as  much  propriety  call 
yourfelves  lords,  or  dukes,  or  kings,  as  chriftians,  while 
you  are  fo  unlike  to  Chrirt.  His  name  is  a  farcafm,  a 
reproach  to  you,  and  you  are  a  fcandal  to  his  name.  His 
name  is  blafphemed  among  the  Gentiles  through  you. 

2.  To  be  a  chnftian  is  to  deny  yourfelves  and  take  up 
the  crofs,  and  follov/  Chrift.  Thefe  are  the  terms  of 
difciplefhip  fixt  by  Chrift  himfelf.  He  /aid  to  them  ally 
If  any  man  will  come  after  me^  let  him  deny  himfelf  and 
take  up  kis  crofs  daily  ^  and  follow  me.  Luke  ix.  23.  To 
deny  ourfeives  is  to  abilain  from  the  pleafures  of  fin, 
to  moderate  our  fenfual  appetites,  to  deny  our  own  in- 
tereft  for  the  fake  of  Chr'ft,  and  in  ihort  to  facrifice 
every  thing  inconfiftent  with  our  duty  to  him,  when 
thefe  come  in  competition.  To  take  up  our  crofs,  is 
to  bear  fufferings,  to  encounter  difficulties,  and  break 
through  them  all  in  imitation  of  Jefus  Chrift,  and  for 
his  fake.  To  follow  him,  is  to  trace  his  fteps,  and  imi- 
tate his  example,  whatever  it  coft  us.  But  this  obferva- 
tion  will  coincide  with  the  next  head,  and  therefore  I 
now  difmifs  it.  Thefe,  firs,  and  thefe  only  are  the  terms, 
if  you  would  be  chrifiians,  or  the  difciples  of  Chrift. 
Thefe  he  honeftly  warned  mankind  of  when  he  firft 
called  them  to  be  his  difciples.  He  did  not  take  an 
advantage  of  them,  but  let  them  know  beforehand  up- 
on what  terms  they  v/ere  admitted.     He  makes  this 

declaration 


Serm.  12.  the  Chrijiian  Name.  323 

declaration  in  the  midft  of  a  great  crowd,  in  Luke  xiv. 
25,  &c.  There  went  a  great  multitude  with  him^  fond  of 
becoming  his  followers :  but  he  turned^  and  fatd  unto 
them^  if  any  man  come  to  me  and  hate  not  his  father  and 
mother.,  and  wife  and  children,  andfifiers.,  yea^  and  his 
own  life  alfo.,  he  cannot  be  my  difciple.  By  hating  is  here 
meant  a  fmaller  degree  of  love,  or  a  comparative  hatred ; 
that  is,  if  we  would  be  Chrift's  difciples,  wt  muft  be 
willing  to  part  with  ourdeareft  relations,  and  even  our 
lives,  when  we  cannot  retain  them  confiftently  with  our 
duty  to  him.  He  goes  on :  Whofoe-jcr  does  not  bear  his 
crofsy  and  encounter  the  greateft  f  ufferings  after  my  ex- 
ample, cannot  be  my  difciple.  The  love  of  Chrill:  is  the 
ruling  paflion  of  every  true  chriftian,  and  for  his  fake 
he  is  ready  to  give  up  ail,  and  to  fuffer  all  that  earth  or 
hell  can  infli(5t.  He  mull:  run  all  rifks,  and  cleave  to 
his  caufe  at  all  adventures.  This  is  the  efTential  cha- 
radter  of  every  true  chriftian 

What  then  fhall  we  think  of  thofe  crowds  amono-  us 
who  retain  the  Chriftian  name,  and  yet  will  not  deny 
themfelves  of  their  fenfual  pleafures,  nor  part  with  theii^ 
temporal  intereft  for  the  fake  of  Chrift  .^^  Who  are  fo 
far  from  being  willing  to  lay  down  their  lives,  that  tliey 
cannot  ftand  the  force  of  a  laugh  or  a  fneer  in  the  caufe 
of  religion,  but  immediately  ftumble  and  fall  away  ? 
or,  are  they  Chriftians,  v/hom  the  commands  of  Chrift 
cannot  reftrain  from  what  their  depraved  hearts  defire  ? 
No ;  a  Chriftian,  without  felf-denial,  mortification,  and 
a  fupreme  love  to  Jefus  Chrift,  is  as  great  a  contra- 
di6lion  as  fire  without  heat,  or  a  fun  without  light,  an 
hero  without  courage,  or  a  friend  without  love.  And 
does  not  this  ftrip  fome  of  you  of  the  Chriftian  name., 
and  prove  that  you  have  no  title  at  all  to  it  ? 

3.  I  have  repeatedly  obferved,  that  a  true  Chriftian 
muft  be  a  follower  or  imitator  of  Chrift.  Be  ye  fol- 
lowers of  me,  fays  St.  Paul,  as  lalfo  am  ofChrifl.  i  Cor. 
xi.  1 .  Chrift  is  the  model  after  whom  every  Chriftian 
is  formed ',  for,  fays  St.  Peter,  he  left  us  an  example  that 
we  fhould  follow  hisfieps.   i  Pet.  ii.  21.    St.  Paul  tells 

USj 


3  2 4  'I'he  Jacred  Import  of  Serm.  12; 

us,  that  we  mufi  be  conformed  to  the  image  of  God's  dear 
Son,  Rom.  viii.  29.  and  that  the  fame  mind  mujl  be  in 
us  which  was  alfo  in  Chrijl  Jefus,  Phil.  ii.  5.;  unief§ 
we  partake  of  his  fpirit,  and  refemble  him  in  pra6tice  j 
Tunlefs  we  be  as  he  v/as  in  the  world,  we  have  no  right 
to  partake  of  his  name. 

Here  I  v/ould  obferve,  that  what  was  miraculous  in 
pur  Lord's  condu(51-,  and  peculiar  to  him  as  the  Son  of 
God  and  Mediator,  is  not  a  pattern  for  our  imitation, 
Tbut  only  what  was  done  in  obedience  to  that  law  of 
God  which  was  common  to  him  and  us.  His  heart 
glowed  with  love  to  his  Father,  he  delighted  in  uni- 
verfal  obedience  to  him  ;  it  was  his  meat  and  his  drink 
to  do  his  will,  even  in  the  moft  painful  and  felf-denying 
inftances ;  he  abounded  in  devotion,  in  prayer,  medita- 
tion, fafting,  and  every  religious  duty.  He  was  alfo  full 
of  every  grace  and  virtue  towards  mankind :  meek 
and  lowly,  kind  and  benevolent,  juft  and  charitable, 
merciful  and  compaflionate  j  a  dutiful  fon,  a  loyal  fub- 
jeft,  a  faithful  friend,  a  good  mafter,  and  an  active, 
ufeful,  public-fpirited  member  of  fociety.  He  was 
patient  and  refigned,  and  yet  undaunted  and  brave 
under  fuiferings  :  he  had  all  his  appetites  and  paffions 
under  proper  governm.ent,  he  was  heavenly-minded, 
above  this  world  in  heart  while  he  dwelt  in  it.  Bene- 
ficence to  the  fouls  and  bodies  of  men  was  the  bufmefs 
of  his  life;  for  he  went  about  doing  good.  A6ls  x.  38. 
This  is  an  imperfed:  fketch  of  his  amiable  charadler ; 
and  in  thefe  things  every  one  that  deferves  to  be  called 
after  his  name,  does  in  fome  meafure  refemble  and 
imitate  him.  This  is  not  only  his  earneft  endeavour, 
but  wliat  he  actually  attains,  though  in  a  much  inferior 
degree ;  and  his  imperfedions  are  the  grief  of  his 
heart.  This  refemblance  and  imitation  of  Chrift  is 
pfiential  to  the  very  being  of  a  Chriftian,  and  without 
It,  it  is  a  vain  pretence.  And  does  your  chriftianity, 
my  brethren,  ftand  this  teft  ?  may  one  know  that  you 
belong  to  Chrift  by  your  living  like  him,  and  difco- 
yering  the  fame  temper  and  fpirit  ?   Db  the  manners 

pf 


5erm.  12.  the  Chriftian  Name.  32^ 

pf  the  divine  Mafter  fpread  through  all  his  family  \ 
and  do  you  fhew  that  you  belong  to  it  by  your  tem- 
per and  condud  ?  Alas  !  if  you  muft  be  denominated 
from  hence,  would  not  fome  of  you  with  more  pro- 
priety be  called  Epicureans  from  Epicurus,  the  fen- 
fual  Atheiftic  philofopher,  or  Mammonites  from  Mam- 
mon, the  imaginary  god  of  riches,  or  Bacchanals  from 
Bacchus,  the  god  of  wine,  than  Chriftians  from  Chrift, 
the  moft  perfed:  pattern  of  living  holinefs  and  virtue 
that  ever  was  exhibited  to  the  world  ? 

If  you  claim  the  name  of  Chriftians,  where  is  that 
ardent  devotion,  that  affedlionate  love  to  God,  that 
zeal  for  his  glory,  that  alacrity  in  his  fervice,  that  re- 
fignatlon  to  his  will,  that  generous  benevolence  to  man- 
kind, that  zeal  to  promote  their  beft  interefts,  that 
meeknefs  and  forbearance  under  ill  ufage,  that  un- 
wearied adivity  in  doing  good  to  all,  that  felf-denial 
and  heavenly  mindednefs  which  fhone  fo  confpicuous 
in  Chrift,  whofe  holy  name  you  bear  ?  Alas !  while 
you  are  deftitute  of  thofe  graces,  and  yet  wear  his 
name,  you  burlefque  it,  and  turn  it  into  a  reproach 
both  to  him  and  yourfelves. 

I  might  add,  that  the  chriftian  name  is  not  heredi- 
tary to  you  by  your  natural  birth,  but  you  muft  be 
born  anew  of  the  fpirit  to  entitle  you  to  this  new 
name  j  that  a  Chriftian  is  a  Believer,  believing  in  Him 
after  whom  he  is  called  as  his  only  Saviour  and  Lord, 
and  that  he  is  a  true  penitent.  Repentance  was  incom- 
patible with  Chrift's  chara6ler,  who  was  perfeftly 
righteous,  and  had  no  fin  of  which  to  repent;  but  it 
is  a  proper  virtue  in  a  finner,  without  which  he  cannot 
be  a  chriftian.  On  thefe  and  feveral  other  particulars 
I  might  enlarge,  but  my  time  will  not  allow ;  I  ftiall 
therefore  conclude  with  a  few  refleftions. 

Firft,  You  may  hence  fee  that  the  chriftian  charac- 
ter is  the  higheft,  the  moft  excellent  and  fublime  in 
all  the  world  :  it  includes  every  thing  truly  great  and 
amiable.  The  chriftian  has  exalted  fentiments  of  the 
fuprems  Being,   juft  notions  of  duty,  and  a  proper 

temper 


326  The  facred  Import  of  Serm.  12. 

temper  and  condudt  towards  God  and  man.  A  chrif- 
tian  is  a  devout  worfliipper  of  the  God  of  heaven,  a 
cheerful  obferver  of  his  v/hole  law,  and  a  broken- 
hearted penitent  for  his  imperfeftions.  A  chriftian  is 
a  complication  of  all  the  amiable  and  ufeful  graces  and 
virtues  -,  temperate  and  fober,  juft,  liberal,  compafli- 
onate  and  benevolent,  humble,  meek,  gentle,  peaceable, 
and  in  all  things  confcientious.  A  chriftian  is  a  good 
parent,  a  good  child,  a  good  mafter,  a  good  fervant, 
a  good  hufband,  a  good  wife,  a  faithful  friend,  an 
obliging  neighbour,  a  dutiful  fubjecft,  a  good  ruler,  a 
zealous  patriot,  and  an  honeft  ftatefman;  and  as  far  as 
he  is  fuch,  fo  far,  and  no  farther,  he  is  a  chriftian.  And 
can  there  be  a  more  amiable  and  excellent  character  ex- 
hibited to  your  view  ?  It  is  an  angelic,  a  divine  cha- 
rad:er.  Let  it  be  your  glory  and  your  ambition  to  wear 
it  with  a  good  grace,  to  wear  it  (o  as  to  adorn  it. 

To  acquire  the  title  of  kings  and  lords  is  not  in  your 
power ;  to  fpread  your  fame  as  fcholars,  philofophers, 
or  heroes,  may  be  beyond  your  reach  i  but  here  is  a 
charadler  more  excellent,  more  amiable,  more  honour- 
able than  all  thefe,  which  it  is  your  bufinefs  to  deferve 
and  maintain.  And  blefted  be  God,  this  is  a  dignity 
which  tlie  meaneft  among  you,  which  beggars  and  flaves 
may  attain.  Let  this  therefore  be  an  objedl  of  univerfal 
ambition  and  purfuit,  and  let  every  other  name  and  title 
be  defpifed  in  comparifon  of  it.  This  is  the  way  to 
rife  to  true  honour  in  the  eftimate  of  God,  angels,  and 
good  men.  What  though  the  anti-chriftian  chriftians 
of  our  age  and  country  ridicule  you .''  let  them  confider 
their  own  abfurd  conduft  and  be  afliamed.  They  think 
it  an  honour  to  wear  the  chriftian  name,  and  yet  perfift 
in  unchriftian  practices;  and  who  but  a  fool,  with  fuch 
palpable  contradidion,  would  think  fo  "i  A  beggar  that 
fancies  himfelf  a  king,  and  trails  his  rags  with  the  gait 
of  majefty,  as  though  they  were  royal  robes,  is  not  fo 
ridiculous  as  one  that  will  ufurp  the  chriftian  name 
without  a  chriftian  pradtice ;  and  yet  fuch  chriftians  are 
the  favourites  of  the  world.     To  renounce  the  profef- 

fion 


Serm.  12.  the  Chrijiian  Nai»e.  3^7 

lion  of  chrlftianity  is  barbarous  and  prophane  ■,  to  live 
according  to  that  profeffion,  and  praflife  chrirtianity,  is 
precifenels  and  fanaticifm.  Can  any  thing  be  more  pre- 
pofterous  ?  This  is  as  if  one  fhould  ridicule  learning, 
and  yet  glory  in  the  charafter  of  a  {cholar  -,  or  laugh  at 
braver)',  and  yet  celebrate  the  praifes  of  heroes.  And 
are  they  fit  to  judge  of  the  wifdom  and  propriety,  cr 
their  cenfures  to  be  regarded,  who  fall  into  fuch  an 
abiurdity  themfelves  ? 

Secondly,  Hence  vou  may  fee  that,  if  all  the  profef- 
fors  of  chriftianity  fhould  behave  in  charader,  the  reli- 
gion of  Chrifl:  would  foon  appear  divine  to  all  mankind, 
and  fpread  through  all  nations  of  the  earth.  Were 
chriftianity  exhibited  to  the  life  in  all  its  native  and  in- 
herent glories,  it  would  be  as  needlefs  to  offer  argu- 
ments to  prove  it  divine,  as  to  prove  that  the  lun  is  full 
of  light :  the  convidlion  would  iiafh  upon  all  mankind 
by  its  own  intrinfic  evidence.  Did  chriitians  exemplify 
the  religion  they  profefs,  all  the  world  would  imme- 
diately fee  that  that  religion  which  rendered  them  fo 
different  a  people  from  all  the  reft  of  mankind,  is  indeed 
divine,  and  every  way  worthy  of  univerfal  acceptance. 
Then  we  fhould  have  no  fuch  monfters  as  Atheift?, 
Deifts,  and  Infidels  in  chriftian  countries.  Then  would 
Heathenifm,  Mahometifm,  and  all  thefalfe  religions  in 
the  world,  fall  before  the  heaven-born  religion  of  Jefus 
Chrift.  Then  it  would  be  fufficient  to  convince  an  in- 
fidel juft  to  bring  him  into  a  chriftian  country,  and  let 
him  obferve  the  different  face  of  things  there  from  all 
the  world  befide.     But  alas! 

Thirdly,  How  different  is  the  chriftian  world  from 
the  chriftian  religion  ?  Who  would  imagine  that  thev 
who  take  their  name  from  Chrift  have  any  relation  to 
him,  if  we  obferve  their  fpirit  and  practice  ?  Should  a 
ftranger  le.irn  chriftianity  from  what  he  fees  in  popifti 
countries,  he  would  conclude  it  principally  con.fifted  in 
bodily  aufterities,  in  worftiipping  faints,  images,  relics, 
and  a  thoufand  trifles,  in  theatrical  fopperies  and  infig- 

nificant 


22%  Import  of  the  Chrijiian  Name.       Serm.  12/ 

nificant  ceremonies,  in  believing  implicitly  all  the  de- 
terminations of  a  fallible  man  as  infallibly  true,  and  in 
perfecuting  all  that  differ  from  them,  and  ihewing  their 
love  to  their  fouls  by  burning  their  bodies.  In  proteft- 
ant  countries,  alas !  the  face  of  things  is  but  little  better 
as  to  good  morals  and  pradical  religion.  Let  us  take 
our  own  country  for  a  fample.  Suppofe  an  Heathen  or 
Mahometan  fhould  take  a  tour  through  Virginia  ta 
learn  the  religion  of  the  inhabitants  from  their  general 
condud,  what  would  he  conclude  ^  would  he  not  con- 
clude that  all  the  religion  of  the  generality  confifted  in 
a  few  Sunday  formalities,  and  that  the  reft  of  the  week 
they  had  nothing  to  do  with  God,  or  any  religion,  but 
were  at  liberty  to  live  as  they  pleafe  ?  And  were  he 
told  that  thefe  were  the  followers  of  one  Chrift,  and 
were  of  his  religion,  would  he  not  conclude  that  he  was 
certainly  an  impoftor,  and  the  minifter  of  fin.^  But 
when  he  came  to  find  that,  notwithftanding  all  this  li- 
centioufnefs,  they  profefled  the  pure  and  holy  religion  of 
the  Bible,  how  would  he  be  aftonifhed,  and  pronounce 
them  the  moft  inconfiftent  bare-faced  hypocrites !  My 
brethren,  great  and  heavy  is  the  guilt  that  lies  upon 
our  country  on  this  account.  It  is  a  fcandal  to  the 
chriftian  name  •.  it  is  guilty  of  confirming  the  neigh- 
bouring Heathen  in  their  prejudices,  and  hinders  the 
propagation  of  chriftianity  through  the  world.  O  let 
not  us  be  acceflary  to  this  dreadful  guilt,  but  do  all  we 
can  to  recommend  our  religion  to  univerfal  acceptance ! 
—I  add. 

Fourthly,  and  laftly,  Let  us  examine  whether  we 
have  any  juft  title  to  the  chriftian  name;  that  is,  whe- 
ther we  are  chriftians  indeed  •,  for  if  wc  have  not  the 
thing,  to  retain  the  name  is  the  moft  inconfiftent  folly 
and  hypocrify,  and  will  anfwer  no  end  but  to  aggravate 
our  condemnation.  A  loft  chriftian  is  the  moft  ftiock- 
ing  character  in  hell ;  and,  unlefs  you  be  fuch  chrif- 
tians as  I  have  defcribed,  it  will  ere  long  be  your 
character..     Therefore,  be  followers  of  Chrift,  imbibe 

his 


S«rm.  i^."         Mercy  to  mourning  PenitenSs.  329 

his  fpirit,  pradlifc  his  precepts,  and  depart  from  ini- 
quity, otherwife  he  will  fentence  you  from  him  at  laft 
as  workers  of  iniquity.  And  then  will  I  profefs  unta 
them  (they  arc  Chrift's  own  words)  /  never  knew  you-, 
depart  from  me,  ye  that  work  iniquity.     Matthew  vii. 

23- 


SERMON     XIIL 

The  Divine  Mercy  to  mourning  Penitents, 


Jeremiah  xxxi.  18,19,  ^o-  ^  havefurely  heard Ephratni 
bemoaning  himfelf  thus.  Thou  hafi  chajiifed  7m,  and  I 
was  chajiifed,  as  a  bullock  unaccujlomed  to  the  yoke : 
turn  thou  me,  and  I fhall  be  turned ;  for  thou  art  the 
Lord  my  God.  Surely  after  that  I  was  turned,  I  repented ; 
and  after  that  I  was  injiru5led,  Ifmote  upon  my  thigh  : 
I  was  afhamed,  yea,  even  confounded,  becaufe  I  did  bear 
the  reproach  of  my  youth.  Is  Ephraim  my  dear  fon  ?  is 
he  a  pie af ant  child?  for  fince  I  fpake  againfi  him,  I  da 
earneflly  remember  him  Jlill :  therefore  my  bowels  are 
troubled  for  him. :  I  will  furely  have  mercy  upon  hir^^ 
faith  the  Lord. 

IN  thefc  words  the  mourning  language  of  a  penitent 
child,  fenfible  of  ingratitude,  and  at  onc^  defirous 
and  afhamed  to  return,  and  the  tender  language  of  a 
compaffionate  father,  at  once  chaftillng,  pitying  and 
pardoning,  are  fweetly  blended :  and  the  images  are 
fo  lively  and  moving,  that,  if  they  were  regarded  only 
as  poetical  defcriptions  founded^ upon  iidion,  they 
would  be  irrefiftibly  ftriking.  But  when  we  confider 
them  as  the  mofi:  important  realities,  as  defcriptive  of 
that  ingenuous  repentance  which  we  muft  all  feel,  and 
of  that  gracious  acceptance  v/e  muft  all  obtain  from 
U  u  God 


jgo  The  Bivine  Mercy  Serm.  13. 

God  before  v/e  can  be  happy,  v/hat  almighty  energy 
fhould  they  have  upon  us !  how  may  our  hearts  diffolve 
within  us  at  the  found  of  fuch  pathetic  complaints,  and 
fuch  gracious  encouragements  !  Hard  indeed  is  that 
heart  that  can  hear  thefe  penitential  ftrains  without  be- 
ing melted  into  the  like  tender  relentings  •,  and  Inve- 
terate is  that  melancholy,  incurable  is  thatdefpondency, 
that  can  llften  to  fuch  exprefTions  of  fatherly  compaf- 
fion  and  love,  without  being  cheered  and  animated. 

This  whole  chapter  had  a  primary  reference  to  the 
Jews,  and  fuch  of  the  Ifraelites  as  might  mingle  with 
them  in  their  return  from  the  Babylonian  captivity. 
As  they  were  enflaved  to  foreigners,  and  removed 
from  their  native  land  for  their  fin,  fo  they  could  not 
be  reilored  but  upon  their  repentance.  Upon  this 
condition  only  a  reftoration  was  promifed  them.  Lev. 
xxvi.  40 — 43.     Deut.  XXX.  1 — 16. 

In  this  chapter  we  have  a  predidlon  of  their  re- 
pentance under  the  heavy  chaftifement  of  feventy  years 
captivity,  and  of  their  return  thereupon  to  their  own 
land.  In  the  text  the  whole  body  of  penitents  among 
them  is  called  by  the  name  of  a  {ingle  perfon,  Ephraim. 
In  the  prophetic  writings,  the  kingdom  of  the  ten 
tribes,  as  diftlnguifhed  from  that  of  Judah,  is  fre- 
quently denominated  by  this  name,  becaufe  theEphra- 
imites  were  a  principal  family  among  them.  And 
fometimes,  as  here,  the  name  is  given  to  the  Jews, 
probably,  on  account  of  the  great  number  of  Ephra- 
imltes  mingled  with  them,  efpecially  on  their  return 
from  cap;ivity.  All  the  penitent  Jews  are  included 
under  this  fingle  name,  to  Intimate  their  unanimity  in 
their  repentance;  their  hearts  confented,  like  the  heart 
of  one  man,  to  turn  to  the  Lord,  from  whom  with 
horrid  unanimity  they  had  revolted.  This  iingle 
name  Ephraim  alfo  renders  this  paflage  more  eafily 
applicable  to  particular  penitents  in  all  ages.  Every 
one  of  fuch  may  Infert  his  own  name,  inftcad  of  that 
of  Ephraim,  and  claim  the  encouragement  originally 
given  to  him.  And  indeed  this  whole  paflage  is  ap- 
plicable 


Serm.  ig.  to  mourning  Pent  tents.  331 

plicable  to  all  true  penitents.  Repenting  Ephraim  did 
but  fpeak  the  language  of  every  one  of  you,  my  brcr 
thren,  who  is  made  fenfible  of  the  plague  of  his  own 
heart,  and  turned  to  the  Lord  5  and  the  tender  lan- 
guage of  forgiving  grace  to  mourning  Ephraim  is  ad- 
dreffed  to  each  of  you ;  and  it  is  with  a  view  to  yos. 
that  I  intend  to  confider  this  fcripture. 

The  text  naturally  refolves  itfelf  into  three  parts, 
as  it  confifts  of  three  verfes.  In  the  firfl  verfe  v/e  find 
the  carelefs,  refolute  impenitent,  reduced  by  chaftife- 
ment  to  a  fenfe  of  his  danger,  and  the  neceffity  of 
turning  to  Godj  and  yet  fenfible  of  his  utter  inability, 
and  therefore  crying  for  the  attractive  influences  of  di- 
vine grace.  You  hear  Ephraim  bemoaning  his  wretch- 
ed cafe,  and  pouring  out  importunate  groans  for  relief, 
thus :  Thou  haft  chaftifed  me^  and  I  was  chaftifed,  like  a 
bullock  unaccuftomed  to  the  yoke^  that  ftruggles  and 
wearies  himfelf  in  vain  to  get  free  from  it,  and  muft 
be  broken  and  tamed  with  fevere  ufage.  — "  Thus 
"  ftubborn  and  unmanageable  have  I  been-,  and  now 
*"  when  I  am  convinced  of  the  neceffity  of  a  return  to 
"  thee,  I  feel  my  obftinate  heart  reludate,  like  a  wl|d 
"  ox,  and  I  cannot  come.  I  therefore  cry  to  thee  for 
*'  the  attractive  influence  of  thy  grace  -,"  Turn  thou, 
me^  and  Ijhall  be  turned  \  draw  me^  and  1  Jhall  run  after 
thee.  "  To  v/hom  but  to  thee  fhould  I  return  ?  and 
"  to  whom  but  to  thee  fhould  I  apply  for  firength  to 
"  return  ?  For  thou  only  art  the  I,ord  my  God,  who 
"  can  help  me,  and  whom  I  am  under  infinite  obliga- 
"'  tions  to  ferve." — Thus  the  awakened  (inner  prayed  ; 
and  mercy  liftened  to  his  cries.  The  attractive  in- 
fluences of  divine  grace  are  granted,  and  he  is  enabled 
to  return  \  which  introduces  the  fccond  branch  of  the 
text  in  the  19th  verfe,  in  which  the  new  convert  is  re- 
prefented  as  reflecting  upon  the  efHcacy  of  converting 
grace,  and  the  glorious  change  wrought  in  him  by  it : 
Surely  after  that  I  vjas  turned.^  I  repented  j  and  after 
that  I  was  inftru^ed,  I  fmote  upon  my  thigh  :  I  was 
afhamed.,  yea^  even  confounded^  becdufe  I  did  bear  the  re^ 
f  roach  of  my  youths  While 


o 


332  T'be  Bivijie  Mercy  Serm.  13. 

While  the  returning  prodigal  is  venting  Iiimfelf  in 
thcfe  plantive  ftrains  in  fome  folitary  corner,  his  hea- 
venly Fiither's  bowels  are  moving  over  him.  The 
third  part  of  the  text  rcprefents  the  bleiled  God  liften- 
ing  to  the  cries  of  his  mourning  child.  1  have  fur  eh 
heard:  or,  according  to  the  emphafis  of  the  original, 
hearing  I  have  heard  Ephraim  bemoaning  himfelf :  and 
while  Ephraim  is  going  on  in  his  pafiionate  complaints, 
God  as  it  v,'ere  interrupts  him,  and  furprifes  him  with 
the  Toothing  voice  of  mercy.  Is  Ephraim  my  dear  fon  ? 
is  he  a  fleajant  child?*  furely  he  is.  Or  we  may  un- 
derftand  the  words  thus,  as  if  God  fhould  fay,  "  Whofe 
''  mourning  voice  is  this  I  hear  ?  Is  this  Ephraim  my 
"  dear  fon  ?  Is  this  my  pleafant  child,  that  bemoans 
*'  Iiimfelf  as  a  helplefs  orphan,  or  one  abandoned  by 
"  his  father  ?  And  can  I  bear  to  hear  his  complaints 
"  without  mingling  divine  confolations  with  them,  and 
"  aflliring  him  of  pardon  ?  No  -,  for  fince  I  fpake  againft 
"  him  in  my  threatenings,  I  do  earneftly  remember  him 
"  ftill:"  therefore  my  bozvels  are  troubled  for  him  ,  I  will 
furely  have  mercy  upon  him,  faith  the  Lord. 

I  fliall  endeavour  to  illuftrate  each  of  thefe  parts  of 
the  text,  and  thus  fliall  be  led  to  defcribe  the  prepara- 
tive exercifes,  the  nature  and  concomitants  of  true  re- 
pentance •,  and  the  tender  compaffions  of  heaven 
towards  mourning  penitents. 

I.  Let  us  view  the  returning  finner  under  his  firft 
fpiritual  concern,  which  is  generally  preparatory  to 
evangelical  repentance. 

And  where  fhall  v/e  find  him  ?  And  what  is  he  do- 
ing ?  Vv'e  fnall  not  now  find  him,  as  ufual,  in  a 
thoughtlefs  hurry  about  earthly  things,  confining  all 
his  attention  to  thefe  trifles,  and  unmindful  of  the  im- 
portant concerns  of  eternity.  We  fhall  not  find  him 
merrj'',  inconfiderate,  and  vain,  in  a  circle  of  jovial, 
cai clefs  companions;  much  lefs  fhall  we  find  him  in- 
trepid 

*  Though  affirmative  interrogations  are  generally  to  be  underfiood 
as  Hiong  negations,  yet  fomelimes  they  are  to  be  undeiltood  sfHrmSi: 
lively.     Sec  i  Scm.  li.  27,  28,     Jcb  xx.  4> 


Serm.  13'  to  mourning  Penitents.  333 

trepid  and  fecure  in  a  couife  of  fin,  gratifying  his 
flefli,  and  indulging  his  lufts.  In  this  enchanted  road 
the  crowd  of  hardy  impenitents  pafs  fecure  and  cheer- 
ful down  to  the  chambers  of  death,  but  the  awaken- 
ed finner  flies  from  it  with  horror  \  or,  if  his  depraved 
heart  would  tempt  him  to  walk  in  it,  he  cannot  take 
many  fteps  before  he  is  fhocked  with  the  horrid  ap- 
parition of  impending  danger.  He  finds  the  flatter- 
ing paths  of  lin  haunted  with  the  terrible  fpefcres  of 
guilt,  and  the  fword  of  divine  vengeance  gleams 
bright  and  dreadful  before  him,  and  feems  lifted  to 
give  the  fatal  blow.  You  will  therefore  find  the 
awakened  finner  folitary  and  folemn,  in  fome  retired 
corner,  not  deceiving  himfelf  with  vain  hopes  of  fafety 
in  his  prefent  ftate,  but  alarmed  with  apprehenfions 
of  danger;  not  planning  fchemes  for  his  fecular  ad- 
vantage, nor  afking  with  fordid  anxiety,  "  Who  will 
fhew  me  any  temporal  good  r"  but  folicitous  about  his 
perifhing  foul,  and  anxioufly  enquiring,  isahat  Jhall  1 
do  to  be  faved?  He  is  not  congratulating  himfelf 
upon  the  imaginary  goodnefs  of  his  heart  or  life,  or 
priding  himfelf  with  fecret  wonder  in  a  rich  conceit 
of  his  excellencies,  but  you  v/i!l  hear  him  in  his  for- 
jrowful  retirement  bemoaning,  or  (as  the  original  fig- 
nifies)  condoling  himfelf.  He  fees  his  cafe  to  be  rea- 
ly  awful  and  fad,  and  he,  as  it  were,  takes  up  a  lamen- 
tation over  himfelf.  He  is  no  more  fenfelefs,  hard- 
hearted, and  felf-applauding,  as  he  was  wont  to  be  ; 
\iut  like  a  mourning  turtle,  he  bewails  himfelf  in  fuch 
tragical  ftrains  as  thefe  :  "  Unhappy  creature  that  I 
am!  into  what  a  deplorable  ftate  have  I  brought  my- 
felf !  and  how  long  have  I  continued  in  it  with  the  in- 
fenfibility  of  a  rock,  and  the  ftupidity  of  a  brute  ^ 
Now  I  may  mourn  over  my  paft  negle6led,  and  un- 
improved days,  as  fo  many  deceafed  friends,  fent  in- 
deed from  heaven  to  do  rae  good,  but  cruelly  killed 
by  my  ungrateful  neglefl  and  continued  delays  as  to 
a  return  to  God  and  holinefs.  Fly  back,  ye  abufed 
fnonths  and  years  ;  arife  from   the  dead  j  reftore  me 

your 


g34  The  Divine  Mercy  Serm.  ij/ 

your  precious  moments  again,  that  I  may  unravel  the 
v/eb  of  life,  and  form  it  anew,  and  that  I  may  im- 
prove the  opportunities  I  have  fquandered  away.  Vain 
and  defperate  vviih !  the  wheels  of  time  will  not  re- 
turn, and  what  ihall  I  do  ?  Here  I  am  a  guilty  obnoxi- 
ous creature,  uncertain  of  life,  and  unfit  to  die  ;  alien- 
ated from  God,  and  incapable  (alas!  I  may  add,  un- 
willing) to  return  a  ilave  to  fin,  and  too  feeble  to  break 
the  fetters  of  inveterate  habits  -,  liable  to  the  arreft  of 
divine  juilice,  and  unable  to  deliver  myfelf;  expofed  to 
the  vengeance  of  heaven,  yet  can  make  no  atonement ; 
deftitute  of  an  interelt  in  Chrift,  and  uncertain,  awfully 
uncertain,  whether  I  fhall  ever  obtain  it.  Unhappy 
creature  !  How  juftly  may  I  take  up  a  lamentation 
over  myfelf !  Pity  me,  ye  brute  creation,  that  know 
not  to  fin,  and  therefore  cannot  know  the  mifery  of 
my  cafe;  and  have  pity  upon  me,  have  pity  upon  mcj 
O  ye  my  friends  !  and  if  thefe  guilty  Jips  may  dare 
to  pronounce  thy  injured  name,  O  thou  God  of  grace 
have  pity  upon  me  !  But  alas  !  I  deferve  no  pity,  for 
hov/  long  have  I  denied  to  myfelf!  Ah!  infatuated 
wretch  !  why  did  not  I  fooner  begin  to  fecure  my 
unhappy  foul,  that  has  lain  all  this  time  neglected 
and  unpitied  upon  the  brink  of  ruin  !  "Why  did  I 
not  fconer  lay  my  condition  to  heart .''  Alas,  I  fhould 
have  gone  on  thoughtlefs  ftill,  had  I  not  been  awak- 
ened by  the  kind  feverity,  the  gracious  chuftifements 
of  my  dilhonoured  Father. 

Tbouhafi  chqftifedme.  This,  as  fpoken  by  Ephraim, 
had  a  particular  reference  to  the  Babylonifh  captivity ; 
but  we  may  naturally  take  occafion  from  it  to  fpeak  of 
thofe  calamities  in  general,  whether  outward  or  in- 
ward, that  are  made  the  means  of  alarming  the  fecure 
Tivier. 

There  are  many  ways  which  our  heavenly  Father 

:;'ver  to  correal;  his  undutiful  children  until  they  return 

to  him.    Sometimes  he  kindly  takes  away  their  health, 

the  abaied  occafion  of  their  wantonnefs   and  fecurity, 

md  reftrains  them  from  their  lulls  with  fetters  of  affiic- 

tion« 


Serm.  i^-  to  mom' ning  Penitents.  i^^^ 

tion.  This  is  beautifully  defcribed  by  Elihu  :  He  is 
chajiened  with  pain  upon  bis  bed^  and  the  multitude  of 
his  bones  with  fir  ongpain  -,  fo  that  his  life  abhorreth  breads 
and  his  foul  dainty  meat.  His  flefh  is  confumed  away^ 
that  it  cannot  be  fecn,  and  his  bones ^  that  were  not  feen, 
fiick  out ;  yea.,  his  foul  draweth  near  unto  the  grave,  and 
his  life  unto  the  dejiroyers.  If  there  be  a  mefjenger  "jcith 
him^  a  peculiarly  fkilful  interpreter .,  one  among  a  thcufd?id^ 
tofhew  unto  man  his  upright nefs.,  then  he  is  gracious  unto 
him.,  andjaith.  Deliver  him  from  going  down  to  the  pity 
— I  have  found  a  ranfom.  Job  xxxiii.  19,  &c.  Some- 
times God  awakens  the  (inner  to  bethink  himfelf,  by 
ftripping  him  of  his  earthly  fupports  and  comforts,  his 
eftate,  or  his  relatives,  which  drew  away  his  heart 
from  eternal  things,  and  thus  brings  him  to  fee  the 
neceffity  of  turning  to  God,  the  fountain  of  blifs,  upon 
the  failure  of  the  ftreams.  Thus  he  dealt  v/ith  profli- 
gate Manafleh.  2  Chron.  xxxiii.  11,  12.  He  was 
taken  in  thorns.,  and  bound  in  fetters.,  and  carried  to 
Babylon ;  and  when  he  was  in  affiiElion  he  befought  the 
Lord.,  and  humbled  himfelf  greatly  before  him^  and  prayed 
unto  him.,  &c.  Thus  alfo  God  promifes  to  do  v/ith 
his  chofen  -,  /  will  caufe  you  to  pafs  under  my  rod.,  end 
bring  you  into  the  bond  of  my  covenant.  Ezek.  xx.  37. 
Pfal.  Ixxxix.  32.     Prov.  xxii.  15.  xxix.  15, 

But  the  principal  means  of  correction  which  God 
ufes  for  the  end  of  return  to  him  is  that  of  confciencc; 
and  indeed  without  this  all  the  reft  are  in  vain.  Out- 
ward afflidlions  are  of  fervice  only  as  they  tend  to 
awaken  the  confcience  from  its  lethargy  to  a  faithful 
difcharge  of  its  truft.  It  is  confcience  that  makes  the 
finner  fenfible  of  his  mifery,  and  fcourges  him  till  he 
return  to  his  duty.  This  is  a  chaftifement  the  moft 
fevere  that  human  nature  can  endure.  The  lafhes  of 
a  guilty  confcience  are  intolerable ;  and  fome  under 
them  have  chofen  ftrangling  and  death  rather  than 
life.  The  fpirit  of  a  man  may  bear  him  up  under  out- 
ward infirmities ;  but  when  the  fpirit  itfelf  is  wound- 
ed, ivho  can  bear  it?  Prov.  xviii.  14.    Confcience  is  a 

ferpent 


33^  STi'*?  Di'bine  Mercy  S  crm .  13  r 

ferpent  in  its  breaft,  which  bites  and  gnaws  his  heart; 
and  he  can  no  more  avoid  it  than  he  can  fly  from  him- 
felf.  Its  force  is  fo  great  and  univerfal,  that  even  the 
heathen  poet  Juvenal,  not  famous  for  the  dehcacy  of 
his  morals,  taught  by  experience,  could  fpeak  feeling- 
ly of  its  fecret  blows,  and  of  agonizing  fweats  under 
its  tortures.* 

Let  not  fuch  of  you  as  have  never  been  tortured 
with  its  remorfe,  congratulate  yourfelves  upon  your 
happinefs,  for  you  are  not  innocents  -,  and  therefore 
confcience  will  not  always  fleep ;  it  will  not  always 
lie  torpid  and  ina6live,  like  a  fnake  benumed  with  cold, 
in  your  bread.  It  will  awaken  you  either  to  your 
converfion  or  condemnation.  Either  the  fire  of  God's 
wrath  flaming  from  his  law  will  enliven  it  in  this 
world  to  fting  you  with  midicinal  anguifli  -,  or  the  un- 
quenchable fire  of  his  vengeance  in  the  lake  of  fire  and 
brimftone  Vv^ill  thaw  it  into  life,  and  then  it  will  horri- 
bly rage  in  your  breaft,  and  diffufe  its  tormenting  poi- 
fon  through  your  whole  frame  :  then  it  will  become  a 
never-dying  worm,  and  prey  upon  your  hearts  for 
ever.  But  if  you  nov/  fuffer  it  to  pain  you  with  falu- 
tary  remorfe,  and  av/aken  you  to  a  tender  fenfibility 
of  your  danger,  this  inteftine  enemy  will  in  the  end 
become  your  bofom  friend,  will  fupport  you  under 
every  calamity,  and  be  your  faithful  companion  and 
guardian  through  the  mofl:  dangerous  paths  of  life. 
Therefore  now  fubmit  to  its  wholefom.e  feverities,  now 
yield  to  its  chafl:ifements.  Such  of  you  as  have  fub- 
mitted  to-  its  authority,  and  obeyed  its  faithful  admo- 
nitions, find  it  your  beft  friend  -,  and  you  now  blefs 
the  day  in  which  you  complied  with  its   demands  j 

though 

Frigida  mens  eft 


Criminibus,  tacita  fudant  prjecordia  culpa. 

JuvBN.  Sat.  L 

Cur  tamen  hos  tu 

Evafine  putes,  quos  diri  confcis  hdd 

Mens  habec  attonitos,  k  fiiriJo  verbere  caidit, 

Occultiirn  quaticnte  animo  tortore  flagelium  ? 

Id.  Sat.  XIIL 


Serrn.  ig.  to  mourning  Penitents.  337 

though  before  divine  grace  renewed  your  heart,  your 
wills  were  ftubborn  and  reluelant^  and  you  might  (ay 
with  Ephraim, 

I  was  chafiifed  as  a  bullock  unaccuftomed  to  the  yoke  ; 
that  is,  "  As  a  wild  young  ox,  unbroken  from  the 
herd,  is  unmanageable,  refufes  the  yoke,  becomes 
outrageous  at  the  whip  or  goad,  and  wearies  himfelf 
in  ineffectual  ftruggles  to  throw  off  the  burden  clapn 
upon  him.,  and  regain  his  favage  liberty,  and  never 
will  fubmit  until  wearied  out,  and  unable  to  refiil:  any 
longer;  fo  has  my  ftubborn  heart,  unaccuftomed  to 
obey,  refufed  the  yoke  of  thy  law,  O  my  God,  and 
ftruggled  with  fullen  obftinacy  under  thy  challifements. 
Inftead  of  calmly  fubmittrng  to  thy  rod,  and  immedi- 
ately reform.ing  under  corre6tion,  inftead  of  turning 
to  thee,  and  flying  to  thy  arms  to  avoid  the  falling 
blow,  I  was  unyielding  and  outrageous,  like  a  wild 
bull  in  a  net.  Ifaiah  li.  20..,,  I  wearied  mvfelf  in  def- 
perate  ftruggles  to  free  myfelf  from  thy  chaftifing  hand ; 
or  vainly  tried  to  harden  myfelf  to  bear  it  with  obdu- 
rate mfenfibility.  I  tried  to  break  the  rcxi  of  confci- 
cnce  that  I  might  no  more  groan  under  its  laflies,  and 
my  heart  reludated  and  rebelled  againft  the  gracious 
defign  of  thy  correcftion,  which  v^-as  to  bring  me  back 
to  thee  my  heavenly  Father,  But  nov/  I  am  wearied 
out,  nov/  I  am  fenfible  I  muft:  fubmit,  or  perifh,  and 
that  m.y  confclence  is  too  ftrong  for  me,  and  muil 
prevail." 

You  fee,  my  brethren,  the  obftinate  reluctance  of  an 
awakened  fmner  to  return  to  God.  Like  a  wild  young 
bullock,  he  would  range  at  large,  and  is  impatient  of 
the  yoke  of  the  law,  and  the  reitraints  of  confcience. 
He  loves  his  fin  and  cannot  bear  to  part  vvith  it.  He 
has  no  relifh  for  the  exercifes  of  devotion  and  afcetic 
mortification;  and  therefore  will  not  fubmit  to  them. 
The  way  of  holinefs  is  difagreeable  to  his  depraved 
heart,  and  he  will  not  turn  his  feet  to  it.  He  loves 
to  be  ftupidly  eafy  and  ferene  in  mind,  and  cannot 
bear  to  be  checked  in  his  purfuit  of  buiinefs  or  plea- 

X  X  furet 


lure  by  anxieties  of  heart,  and  therefore  he  is  im- 
patient of  the  honeft  warnings  of  jiis  confcience,  and 
iifes  a  variety  of  wretched  expedients  to  filence  its 
clamorous  remonftrances.  In  fhort,  he  will  do  any 
thing,  h?  will  turn  to  any  thing  rather  than  turn  to 
God.  If  his  confcience  will  be  but  fatisfied,  he  will  for- 
fake  many  of  his  fins  •,  he  will,  like  Herod,  Mark  vi. 
20.  do  many  things,  and  walk  in  the  whole  round  of 
outward  duties.  All  this  he  will  do,  if  his  confcience 
will  be  but  bribed  by  it.  But  if  confcience  enlarges 
its  demands,  and,  after  he  has  reformed  his  life,  re- 
quires him  to  make  him  a  new  heart,  requires  him 
to  turn  not  only  from  the  outward  practice  of  grofa 
vices,  but  from  the  love  of  all  fni ;  not  only  to  turn  to 
the  obfervance  of  religious  duties,  but  to  turn  to  the 
Lord  with  all  his  heart,  and  furrender  himfelf  entirely 
to  him,  and  make  it  the  main  bufinefs  of  life  to  ferve 
r.im  ;  if  confcience,  I  fay,  carries  its  demands  thus  far, 
he  cannot  bear  it,  he  ftruggles  to  throw  oft  the  yoke. 
And  fome  are  curfed  with  horrid  fuccefs  in  the  at- 
tempt: they  are  permitted  to  reft  content  in  a  partial 
reformation,  or  external  religion,  as  fufficient,  and  fo 
go  down  to  the  grave  tvitb  a  lie  in  their  right  hand. 
But  the  happy  fou),  on  whom  divine  grace  is  deter- 
mined to  finifli  its  work  in  fpite  of  all  oppofition,  if? 
fuffered  to  weary  itfelf  out  in  a  vain  refiilance  of  the 
chaftifements  of  confcience,  till  it  is  obliged  to  yield, 
and  fubmit  to  the  yoke.  And  then  with  Ephraim  it 
will  cry, 

^urn  thou  me^  and  I  Jhall  be  turned.  This  is  the 
mourning  linner's  language,  when  convinced  that  he 
muit  fubmit  and  turn  to  God,  and  in  the  mean  time 
finds  himfelf  utterly  unable  to  turn.  Many  eflays  he 
makes  to  give  himfelf  to  the  Lord  •,  but  O  !  his  heart 
Itarts  back,  and  fhrinks  away,  as  though  he  were 
rufhing  into  flames,  when  he -is  but  flying  to  the 
gracious  embraces  of  his  Father.  He  ftrives,  and 
fl:rives  to  drag  it  along,  but  all  in  vain.  And  what 
ihvili  he  do  in  this  extremity,  but  cry,    "  Lord^  tunii 

thou 


Serm.  13.  to  mourning  Penitenh.  339 

thou  me^  and  I  Jhall  he  turned;  draw  me^  and  1  JhaJl 
run  after  thee.  Work  in  me  to  will  and  to  do,  and  thsn 
I  Jljall  work  out  jny  own  falvation  !  Lord,  though  I 
am  fenfible  of  the  necefiity  of  turning  to  thee,  though 
I  exert  my  feeble  ftrength  in  mfiiiy  a  languid  effort  to 
come,  yet  I  cannot;  I  cannot  fo  much  as  creep  towards 
thee,  though  I  fhould  die  on  the  fpot.  Not  only  thy 
word,  but  my  own  experience  now  convinces  me  that 
I  cannot  come  unto  thee,  unlefs  thou  draw  me.  John 
vi.  44.  Others  vainly  boaft  of  their  imaginary  power, 
as  though,  when  they  fet  themfelves  about  it  they 
could  perform  fome  great  achievements.  Thus  I 
once  flattered  myfelf,  but  now,  when  I  am  mo{t 
cap.ible  of  judging,  that  is,  when  I  come  to  the  trial, 
all  my  boafts  are  humbled.  Here  I  lie,  an  helplefs 
creature,  unable  to  go  to  the  phyfician,  unable  to 
accept  of  pardon  and  life  on  the  esfy  terms  of  the 
gofpel,  and  unable  to  free  myfelf  from  the  bondage  of 
iin  :  and  thus  1  mufl  lie  for  ever,  unlefs  that  God 
from  whom  I  have  revolted,  draws  me  back  to  hini- 
felf.  Turn  me,  O  thou  that  haft  the  hearts  of  all 
men  in  thy  hands,  and  canll  turn  them  v^^hitherfoever 
thou  pleafeft,  turn  me;  and  then,  weak  and  reludant 
as  I  am,  I  fhall  be  turned  ;  this  backward  heart  will 
yield  to  the  almighty  attraftion  of  thv  grace. 

"  Here  am  I  as  pafiive  clay  in  the  hand  of  the 
potter  ;  incapable  to  fafhion  myfelf  into  a  veflel  fit  for 
thy  houfe;  but  thou  canft  form  me  as  thou  pleafefi:. 
This  hard  and  ftubborn  heart  will  be  dutflile  and  plia- 
ble to  thine  irrefiftible  pov/er."  Thus  you  fee  the 
awakened  finner  is  driven  to  earneft  prayer  in  his  ex- 
igence. Never  did  a  drowning  man  call  for  help,  or  a 
condemned  m.alefadlor  plead  for  pardon  with  more  fin- 
cerity  and  ardour.  If  the  finner  had  negleAed  prayer 
all  his  life  before,  now  he  flies  to  it  as  the  only  ex- 
pedient left,  or  if  he  form^erly  ran  it  Qvcr  in  a  carelefs 
unthinking  mianner,  as  an  infignificant  form,  now  he 
exerts  all  the  importunity  of  his  foul ;  now  he  prays  as 
for  his  life,  and  cannot  reft  till  his  defires  are  anfwered. 

I'he 


340  '^^^  Dhhie  Mercy  Serm.  13.  ^ 

The  iitiner  ventures  to  enforce  his  petition  by  plead- 
ing his  relation  to  God ;  Turn  mc^ — for  thou  art  the 
Loyd  my  God.  There  is  a  fenfe  in  which  a  finner  in 
his  unregenerate  ftate  cannot  call  God  his  God  i  that 
is,  he  cannot  claim  a  fpecial  intereft  in  him  as  his 
portion,  nor  cry  "  Abba,  Father,"  with  the  fpirit  of 
adoption,  as  reconciled  to  God.  But  even  an  unre- 
generate finner  may  call  him  my  God  in  other  fenfes  ; 
jhe  is  his  God  by  right,  that  is,  though  he  has  idola- 
troufly  yielded  himfelf  to  other  gods,  yet  by  right 
3ie  fhould  have  acknowledged  him  only.  He  is  his 
God,  as  that  name  denotes  authority  and  power,  to 
which  all  fhould  be  fubjedt :  his  God,  as  he  would  now 
choofe  him  to  be  his  God,  his  portion  and  his  all, 
which  is  implied  in  turning  to  him  ;  he  is  his  God  by 
anticipation  and  hope,  as  upon  his  turning  to  him  he 
will  become  his  recorciled  God  in  covenant  \  and  he 
IS  his  God  by  outward  profefTion  and  vifible  relation. 
The  force  of  this  argument  to  urge  his  petition  for 
converting   grace,  may  be  viewed  in  various  lights. 

It  may  be  underftood  thus :  "  Turn  thou  me,  for 
thou  only,  who  art  the  Lord  of  the  ujiiverfe,  and  hafl 
all  the  creation  at  thy  controul-,  thou  only,  who  art  my 
God  and  ruler,  and  in  V;hofe  hand  my  heart  is,  art  able 
to  turn  fo  obftinate  a  creature.  In  vain  do  I  feek  for 
Iielp  elfewhere.  P-Jot  all  the  means  upon  earth,  not 
all  tlie  perfuaiions,  cxortations,  invitations,  and  ter- 
rors that  can  be  ufed  with  me,  q?.x).  turn  this  hearty, 
it  is  a  work  becoming  the  Lord  God  Almighty,  and 
it  is  thou  alone  canfl  effedl  it.'- 

Or  v/e  may  underfland  the  plea  thus  :  "  Turn  thou 
jiie,  and  I  fhall  turn  to  thee  \  to  thee  who  art  the 
Lord  my  God,  and  to  whom  I  am  under  the  moft 
iacred  obligations  to  return.  I  would  refign  thine 
own  right  to  theej  I  would  fjabmit  to  thee  who  alone 
haft  a  jufl  claim  to  me  as  thy  fervant." 

Or  the  words  may  be  underflood  as  an  abjuration 
of  all  the  idol-kUis  to  which  the  finner  v/as  enliaved 
before.     "  I  will  turn  to  xkzz-,  for  to  whom  fhould  I 

tuni 


Serm.  13.  to  mourning  Pmitmts.  341 

turn  but  to  the  Lord  my  God  ?  What  hcivd  I  to  do 
any  more  with  idols?  Hofea  xiv.  8.  V/hy  fhould  I  any 
longer  fubmit  to  other  Lords,  who  have  no  right  to 
me  ?  I  would  renounce  them  all ;  I  would  throw  oiF 
all  fubje6tion  to  them,  and  av^ouch  thee  alone  for  the 
Lord  my  God."  Thus  the  Jews  renounced  their 
falfe  gods  upon  their  return  from  Babylon. 

Or  we  may  underfland  the  words  as  an  encourage- 
ment to  hope  for  converting  grace,  iince  it  is  afked 
from  a  God  of  infinite  power  and  goodnefs.  "  Though 
•I  have  mod  grievoufly  offended,  and  had  I  done  the 
thoufandth  part  fo  much  againil  my  fellow  creatures, 
I  could  never  expedl  a  favourable  admiffioh  into  their 
prefence  -,  yet  I  dare  afk  fo  great  a  favour  of  thee, 
for  thou  art  God,  and  not  man  :  thy  power  and  thy 
grace  are  all  divine,  fuch  as  become  a  God.  I  there- 
fore dare  to  hope  for  that  from  thy  hands,  which  I 
might  defpair  of  from  all  the  univerfe  of  beings  be- 
/ides." 

Or  finally,  the  pafTage  may  be  looked  upon  as  a 
plea  drawn  from  the  finner's  external  relation  to  God, 
as  a  member  of  his  vif.ble  church,  and  as  dedicated 
to  him.  "  Turn  me,  and  I  v/ill  turn  to  thee,  whofe 
name  I  bear,  and  to  whom  I  have  been  early  devoted. 
I  would  nov/  of  my  own  choice  acknowledge  the  God 
of  my  fathers,  and  return  to  the  guide  of  my  youth. 
And,  fince  thou  haft  honoured  me  with  a  place  in  thy 
vilible  church,  I  humbly  hope  thou  wilt  not  rejedt  me 
nov/,  when  I  would  fincereiy  confecrate  myfelf  to  thec^ 
and  become  thy  fervant  in  reality,  as  v/ell  as  in  ap- 
pearance." In  this  fenfe  the  plea  might  be  ufed  with 
peculiar  propriety  by  the  Jews,  who  had  been  nationally 
adopted  as  the  peculiar  people  of  God. 

In  whatever  fenfe  we  underftand  the  words,  they 
convey  to  us  this  important  truth,  that  the  awakened 
fmner  is  obliged  to  take  all  his  encouragement  from 
God,  and  not  from  himfelf  All  his  truft  is  in  the 
divine  mercy,  and  he  is  brought  to  an  happy  felf- 
defpair. 

Havincr 


J42  -^h  Divhte  Mercy  Serm.  13."  " 

Having  viewed  Ephraim  under  the  preparatory 
work  of  legal  convidion,  and  the  dawn  of  evangelical 
repentance,  let  us  view  him, 

II.  As  receding  upon  the  furprifing  efficacy  of 
grace  he  had  fought,  and  which  was  beftowed  upon 
him  in  anfwer  to  his  prayer. 

We  left  him  jiift  now  crying,  'iTurn  thou  mc,  and  I 
Jhall  be  turned \,  here  we  find  him  adually  turned.  Surely 
after  that  1  was  turned^  I  repented.  When  the  Lord 
exerts  his  power  to  fubduethe  ftubbornncfs  of  the  fin- 
ner,  and  fweetly  to  allure  him  to  himfelf,  then  the  fin- 
ner  repents  ;  then  his  heart  dilTolves  in  ingenuous  dif- 
intereited  relentine^s.  His  forrow  and  concern  before 
converfion  are  forced  and  mercenary ;  thev  are  occa- 
fioned  only  by  a  felfifii  fear  of  punifiiment,  and  he  would 
willingly  get  rid  of  them,  but  now  his  grief  is  free  and 
fpontaneous -,  it  flows  from  his  heart  as  freely  as  flreams 
from  a  fountain-,  and  he  takes  pleafure  in  tender  relent- 
innrs  before  the  Lord  for  his  fin;  he  delirrhts  to  be 
humble,  and  to  feel  his  heart  difl'olve  within  him.  An 
heart  of  flefh,  foft  and  fufceptive  of  imprefiions,  is  his 
choice,  and  a  ftony  infenfible  heart  his  greateft  burden; 
the  more  penitent  the  more  happy,  and  the  more  fenfe- 
lefs,  the  more  miferable  he  finds  himfelf.  Now  alfo  his 
heart  is  actuated  with  a  generous  concern  for  the  glory 
of  God  •,  and  he  fees  the  horrid  evil  of  fin  as  contrary 
to  the  holinefs  of  God,  and  an  ungrateful  requital  of 
his  uninterrupted  beneficence. 

We  learn  from  this  pafiage,  that  the  true  penitent 
is  fenfible  of  a  mighty  turn  in  his  temper  and  inclina- 
tions. Surely  after  that  I  was  turned^  I  repented.  His 
whole  foul  is  turned  fiom  what  he  formerly  delighted 
in,  and  turned  to  what  he  had  no  relifh  for  before. 
Particularly  his  thoughts,  his  will,  and  affeflions  are 
lurneJ  to  Gj-J  ;  there  is  an  heavenly  bias  communicat- 
ed to  them  which  draws  them  to  hohnefs,  like  the  law 
of  gravitation  in  the  material  world.  There  is  indeed 
a  new  turn  given  to  his  outward  pradtice  ;  the  v/orld 
may  infjm^  meafure  fee  that  he  is  a  n^w  mm;  but 

this 


Serm.  ij.  to  mourning  Pe7iitent3.  343 

this  is  not  all;  the  firft  fpring  that  turns  all  the  wheels 
of  the  foul  and  adions  of  life  is  the  heart,  ami  this  is 
firft  fet  right.  The  change  within  is  as  evident  as  that 
without,  could  our  eyes  penetrate  the  heart.  In  Ihort^ 
If  any  man  be  in  Chriji^  he  is  thrQughoiit  a  new  creature  ; 
old  things  are  pajjed  away.,  and  behold^  all  things  are 
hi  come  new. 

Apply  this  touchllonc  to  your  hearts,  my  brethren, 
and  fee  if  they  will  ftand  the  teft. 

The  penitent  proceeds,  After  that  I  was  infiruHed^  I 
fmote  upon  my  thigh.  The  fame  grace  that  turns  him 
does  alfo  inftruft  him  ;  nay,  it  is  by  difcovering  to 
him  the  beauty  of  holinefs,  and  the  glory  of  God  in 
the  face  of  Jefus  Chriil:,  that  it  draws  him.  He  is 
brought  out  of  darknefs  into  marvellous  and  artoniili- 
ing  light,  that  furprifes  him  with  new  difcoveries  of 
things  :  he  is  inftruflcd  particularly,  as  to  the  necef- 
fity  of  turning  to  God,  as  to  the  horrid  ingratitude, 
vilenefs,  and  deformity  of  fin,  and  as  to  his  folly  and 
wickednefs  in  continuing  fo  long  alienated  from  Gcd, 
By  the  way,  have  you  ever  been  let  into  thefe  fecrets, 
my  hearers?   And  when  inflru^led  in  thefe, 

"  He  fmites  upon  his  thigh."  This  gefture  denotes 
confternation  and  amazement ;  and  nature  direcSis  us 
thus  to  exprefs  thefe  pal'^ions.  Ezekiel  is  enjoined  to 
ufe  this  gefture  as  a  prophetic  adlion  fignifying  the 
horror  and  aftonifhment  of  his  mind.  Ezekiel  xxl.  12. 
This  aftion,  therefore,  of  the  penitent,  intimates  what 
confternation  and  amazement  he  is  call:  into,  when  thefe 
new  difcoveries  fiafii  upon  his  foul.  He  ftands  amazed 
at  himfelf.  He  is  ftruck  with  horror  to  think  what  an 
ungrateful,  ignorant,  ilupid  wretch  he  has  been  all 
Iiis  life  till  this  happy  moment.  "  Alas  !  what  have  I 
been  doing  ?  abufing  all  my  days  in  ruining  my  own 
foul,  and  difhonouring  the  God  of  all  my  mercies  ! 
contentedly  eilranged  from  him,  and  not  feeking  to 
return!  Where  were  my  eyes,  that  I  never  before 
faw  the  horrid  evil  of  my  condu(5l,  and  the  fliocking 
deformdty  of  fin,  which  now  opens  to  me  in  all  its 

hideous 


344  ^^'^  Divine  Mercy  Serm.  i^^  ' 

hideous  colours  !  Amazing  !  that  divine  vengeance 
has  not  broken  out  upon  mc  before  now  !  Can  it  be 
that  I  am  yet  alive  !  in  the  land  of  hope  too  !  yea, 
alive,  an  humble  pardoned  penitent !  Let  heaven  and 
earth  wonder  at  this,  for  furely  the  fun  never  fhone 
upon  a  v/retch  fo  undeferving  !  fo  great  a  monument 
of  mercy  !" 

The  pardoned  penitent  proceeds, — /  was  ajhamedy 
yea^  even  confounded^  becaufe  I  did  bear  the  reproach  of 
my  youth.  We  are  afhamed  when  we  are  caught  in  a 
mean,  bafe  and  fcandalous  aftion;  we  blufh,  and  are 
confounded,  and  know  not  where  to  look,  or  what  to 
fay.  Thus  the  penitent  is  heartily  afhamed  of  him- 
felf,  when  he  refleds  upon  the  fordid  difpofitions  he 
has  indulged,  and  the  bafe  and  fcandalous  adlions  he 
has  committed.  He  blufhes  at  his  own  infpc-^lion -,  he 
is  confounded  at  his  own  tribunal.  He  appears  to 
himfelf,  a  mean,  bafe,  contemptible  wretch ;  and, 
though  the  world  may  honour  him,  he  loaths  himfelf, 
as  viler  than  the  earth  he  treads  on  j  and  is  fecretly 
afhamed  to  fee  the  face  of  man.  And  how  then  fhall 
he  appear  before  God  ?  how  fhall  he  hold  up  his  face 
in  the  prefence  of  his  injured  Father  ?  He  comes  to 
him  afliamed,  and  covering  his  head.  He  knows  not 
what  to  fay  to  him  •,  he  kno'vvs  not  how  to  look  him 
in  the  face,  but  he  falls  dov/n  abafhed  and  confounded 
at  his  feet.  Thus  was  penitent  Ezra  afhamed  before 
God.  Fie  fell  upon  his  knees,  and  lifted  up  his  hands 
(his  eyes,  like  the  publica]\  hedurfc  not  lift  up)  unto 
the  heavens,  and  he  fays,  O  my  God.,  I  am  ajha-med^  and 
hlu/h  to  lift  tip  my  face  to  thee.,  my  God ;  for  our  iniqui- 
ties are  increafed  over  our  heads^  and  our  trefpafj'es  are 
grown  up  unto  the  heavens. — And  now.,  O  our  God, 
what  fhall  we  fay  after  this  ?  for  we  have  broken  thy 
commandtnents.  Ezra  ix.  5 — 10.  Thus  it  was  foretold 
concerning  the  repenting  Jews.  Then  thou  fhalt  re- 
member  thy  evil  ways  and  be  afhamed.  Thoufjalt  be  con- 
founded, and  never  open  thy  mouth  any  more.,  becaufe  of 
thy  fhanie,  Ezek.  xvi.  6i,  63.    There  is  good  reafon 

for 


3?rm.  i3«  to  mourning  Penltejits.  345 

for  this  confcious  fhame,  and  therefore  it  is  enjoined 
as  a  duty  :  Noi  for  your  fakes  do  I  this  unto you^  fa'uk 
the  Lord  God,  be  it  knozvn  unto  you :  be  a/hamed  and 
confounded  for  your  own  ways,  0  houfe  of  Ifrael.  Kzek. 
XXX vi.  32. 

And  what  is  the  caufe  of  this  fhame  in  the  niouin- 
ing  penitent  ?  "  O  (fays  he)  it  is  becanfs  I  bear  the 
reproach  of  my  youth. '^^  "  I  carry  upon  me  (as  the  origi- 
nal word  fignifies)  the  brand  of  infamy.  My  youth, 
alas  !  was  fpent  in  a  thoughtlefs  neglect  of  God  and 
the  duties  I  owed  him  ;  my  vigorous  days  were  wail:ed 
in  fcnfual  extravagances,  and  gratifying  my  criminal 
inclinations.  My  prime  of  life,  which  ihould  have 
been  facred  to  the  Author  of  my  exiftence,  was  fpent 
in  rebellion  againft  him.  Alas  !  my  iirft  thoughts, 
my  virgin-love,  did  not  afpire  to  him  ;  nor  did  my 
young  defires,  as  foon  as  fledged,  wing  their  flight 
to  heaven.  In  fliort,  the  temper  of  my  heart,  and 
my  courfe  of  life,  from  the  firft  exercifes  of  reafoa 
to  this  happy  hour  of  my  converflon,  were  a  dif- 
grace  to  my  rational  nature  *,  I  have  degraded  myfelf 
beneath  the  beafls  that  perifli."  Behold,  I  am  vile!  I 
loath  arid  abhor  myfelf  for  all  my  filthinefs  and  abomina- 
tions. Ezek.  xxxvi.  31.  "And  how  amazing  the 
grace  of  God,  to  honour  fo  bafe  a  Vv'retch  with  a  place 
among  the  children  of  his  love  !'* 

Thus  I  have  delineated  the  heart  of  penitent 
Ephraim ;  and  let  me  afk  you  my  brethren,  is  this 
y^ur  pidlure  r  Have  you  ever  felt  fuch  ingenuous  re- 
lentings,  fuch  juft  confternation,  fuch  holy  fnam.e  and 
confuflon  ?  There  can  be  no  tranfition  from  nature  to 
grace  without  previous  concern,  &c.  You  all  bear 
the  reproach  of  that  youth,  you  have  all  fpent  fome 
unhappy  days  in  the  fcandalous  ways  of  fln,  and  your 
confciences  ilill  bear  the  brand  of  infamy.  And  have 
you  ever  been  made  deeply  fenfible  of  it  ?  Has  God 
ever  heard  you  bemoaning  yourfelves  thus  in  fome 
mournful  folitude,  "  Thou  haft  chaftifed  me,  and  I 
was  chaftifed,  as  a  bullock  unaccuftomed  to  the  yoke.'* 

Yy  Is 


J4^  ^^^  Dix'/«^  Mercy  Serm.  i  J',. ' 

Is  there  any  fuch  mourner  here  this  day  ?  then  lifteii 
to  the  gracious  voice  of"  your  heavenly  Father,  while, 

III.  I  am  illuftrating  the  laft,  the  (weeteft  part  of 
the  text,  which  expreiTes  the  tender  compaffion  of  God 
towards  mourning  penitents. 

While  they  are  bemoaning  their  cafe,  and  confcious 
that  they  do  not  deferve  one  look  of  love  from  God, 
he  is  reprefented  as  attentively  liiiening  to  catch  the 
lirft  penitential  groan  that  breaks  from  their  hearts, 
Ephraim,  in  the  depth  of  his  defpondency,  probably 
did  hardly  hope  that  God  took  any  notice  of  his  fecret 
forrows,  which  he  fupprefied  as  much  as  poflible  from 
the  public  view  :  but  God  heard  him,  God  v/as  watch- 
ing to  hear  the  firft  mournful  cry ;  and  he  repeats  all 
his  complaints,  to  let  him  know  (after  the  manner  of 
men)  what  particular  notice  he  had  taken  of  them, 
*'  I  have  furely  heard^  or  hearing  I  have  heard  j"  that 
is,  "  I  have  attentively  heard  Ephraim  bemoaning 
himfelf  thus." 

What  ftrong  confolation  may  this  give  to  defpond- 
ing  mourners,  who  think  themfelves  negleded  by  that 
God  to  whom  they  are  pouring  out  their  weeping  fup- 
plications !  He  hears  your  fecret  groans,  he  courts- 
your  fighs,  and  puts  your  tears  into  his  bottle.  His 
eyes  penetrate  all  the  fecrets  of  your  heart,  and  he 
obferves  ail  their  feeble  flruggles  to  turn  to  himfelf; 
and  he  beholds  you  not  as  an  unconcerned  fpetftator, 
but  witli  all  the  tender  emotions  of  fatherly  compaf- 
fion :  for, 

While  he  is  liftening  to  Ephraim's  mounful  com- 
plaints, he  abruptly  breaks  In  upon  him,  and  fweetly 
furprifes  him  with  the  warmeft  declarations  of  pity 
and  grace.  "  Is  this  Ephraim,  my  dear  fon,  whole 
mourning  voice  I  hear  }  Is  this  my  pleafant  child,  or 
(as  it  might  be  rendered)  the  child  of  my  delights, 
who  thus  wounds  my  ear  with  his  heart-rending^ 
groans?"  What  flrange  language  this  to  an  ungrate- 
ful, unyielding  rebel,  that  continued  obftinate  till  he 
wa.s  wearied  out  j  that  would  not  turn  till  drawn  -,  that 

deferved 


:Serm.  13.  to  mourning  Penitents.  547 

^deferved  to  fall  a  viftim  to  juftice  !  This  Is  the  lan- 
guage of  compallion  all  divine,  of  grace  that  becomes 
a  God. 

This  pafTage  contains  a  moft  encouraging  truth, 
that,  however  vile  and  abandoned  a  finner  has  been, 
yet,  upon  his  repentance,  he  becomes  God's  dear  fon, 
his  favourite  child.  He  will,  from  that  moment  re- 
gard him,  provide  for  him,  proted  him,  and  bring 
him  to  his  heavenly  iaheritance,  as  his  fon  and  heir  i 
for  Neither  deaths  nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor  principalities^ 
nor  powers,  nor  things  prefent,  nor  things  to  cunie,  3zc. 
Rom.  viii,  38.  &c.  Jhall  feparate  him  frotn  his  Father'' s 
love;  but  he  Jhall  inherit  all  things.  Rev.  xxi,  7.  Yea, 
all  things  are  h's  already  in  title,  and  he  fliall  be  made 
greater  than  the  kings  of  the  earth;  he  lliall  be  made 
fuch  as  becomes  fo  dignified  a  relation  as  that  of  a  Son 
to  the  King  of  kings  and  Lord  of  lords. 

And  is  not  this  magnet  fufficicnt  to  attract  all  this 
afl'embiy  to  their  Father's  houfe  ^  Can  you  refift  the 
almighty  energy  of  fuch  compaflion?  Return,  ye 
perifhing  prodigals!  Return-,  though  you  h^vo. finned 
again/t  Heaven,  and  befo7'e  your  father,  and  are  no  more 
worthy  to  be  called  his  fons,  yet  return,  and  you  Ihall 
be  made  his  dear  fons,  his  pleafant  children. 

Arc  none  of  you  in  need  of  fuch  ftrong  confolation 
as  this?  Do  you  want  encouragement  to  return,  and 
are  you  ready  to  fpring  up  and  run  to  your  father's 
arms,  upon  the  firft  aflurance  of  acceptance  .^  If  this 
be  what  you  want,  you  have  an  abundance  for  your 
fupply.  Are  all  your  fouls  then  in  motion  to  return  ? 
Does  that  eye  which  darts  through  the  whole  crea- 
tion at  once,  now  behold  your  hearts  moving  towards 
God  }  Or  am  I  wafiing  thefe  gracious  encouragements 
upon  ftupid  creatures,  void  of  fenfation,  that  do  not 
care  for  them,  or  that  are  fo  conceited  of  their  own 
worth,  as  not  to  need  them  ?  If  fo,  I  retrad  thefe 
confolations,  with  refpefc  to  you,  and  fliall  prefently 
tell  you  your  doom.  But  let  us  farther  purfue  thefe 
melting  ftrains  of.  paternal  pitv. 

''•For 


34S  The  Divine  Mercy  Serm.  13.  " 

"  For  fiace  I  fpake  againft  him,  I  do  ■earneftiy  re-- 
member  him  ftill."  Many  and  dreadful  were  the 
threatenings  denounced  againft  the  finner,  while  im- 
penitent-, and,  had  he  continued  impenitent,  they 
vvc.uld  certainly  have  been  executed  upon  him.— But 
the  primary  and  immediate  defign  of  the  threatenings 
are  to  make  men  happy,  and  not  to  'make  them  mife- 
rable ;  they  are  defigned  to  deter  them  from  difobe- 
dience,  which  is  naturally  produclive  of  mifery,  or 
to  reclaim  them  from  it,  which  is  but  to  reftrain  them 
in  their  career  to  ruin.  And  confequently  thefe  threat- 
enings proceed  from  love  as  well  as  the  promifes  of 
our  God,  from  love  to  the  perfon,  though  from  ha- 
tred to  fin.  So  the  fame  love  which  prompts  a  parent 
to  promife  a  reward  to  his  fon  for  obedience,  will 
prompt  him  alfo  to  threaten  him,  if  he  takes  fome 
dangerous  weapon  to  play  with :  or,  to  choofe  a  more 
pertinent  illuftration,  for  God  is  the  moral  ruler  as 
well  as  father  of  the  rational  world  •,  the  fame  regard 
to  the  public  weal,  which  induces  a  lawgiver  to  annex 
a  reward  to  obedience,  will  alfo  prompt  him  to  add 
penalties  to  his  law  to  deter  from  difobedience ;  and 
his  immediate  defign  is  not  to  make  any  of  his  fub- 
jedls  miferable,  but  to  keep  them  from  making  them- 
felves  and  others  miferable  by  difobedience  ;  thouph, 
when  the  threatening  is  once  denounced,  it  is  necefiary 
it  fhould  be  executed,  to  vindicate  the  veracity  of  the 
lawgiver,  and  fecure  his  government  from  infult  and 
contem.pt.  Thus  when  the  primary  end  of  the  divine 
threatenings,  namely,  the  deterring  and  reclaiming 
men  from  difobedience  is  not  obtained,  then  it  becomes 
neceflkry  that  they  fhould  be  executed  upon  the  impc- 
riitent  in  all  their  dreadful  extent-,  but  when  the  finner 
is  brought  to  repentance,  and  to  fubmit  to  the  divine 
government,  then  all  thefe  threatenings  are  repealed, 
and  they  ftiall  not  hurt  one  hair  of  his  head.  And 
the  finner  himfelf  will  acknowledge  that  thefe  threaten- 
ings proved  neceffary  mercies  to  him,  and  tliat  the 
denunciation  of  everlafting  punilhment  v/as  one  means 


Serm.  13'  to  mourning  Penitents.  349 

of  bringing  him  to  everlafting  happinefs,  and  that 
divine  vengeance  in  this  fenfe  confpired  with  divine 
grace  to  fave  him. 

Confider  this,  ye  defponding  penitents,  and  allay 
your  terrors.  That  God,  who  has  written  fuch  bitter 
things  againft  you  in  his  word,  earneftly  and  affecPdon- 
ately  remembers  you  ftill,  and  it  was  with  a  kind  intent 
to  you  that  he  thundered  out  thefe  terrors  at  which 
you  tremble.  Thefe  acids,  this  bitter  phyfic,  were 
neceflary  for  your  recovery.  Thefe  coals  of  fire  were 
neceflary  to  awaken  you  out  of  your  lethargy.  There- 
fore read  the  love  of  your  Father,  even  in  thefe  fo- 
lemn  warnings.  He  affedlionately  rsmembers  you 
Hill ;  he  cannot  put  you  out  of  his  thoughts. 

Therefore  my  bowels  (adds  the  all-gracious  Jehovah) 
are  troubled  for  him.  Aftonifliing  beyond  conception ! 
How  can  we  bear  up  under  fuch  words  as  thefe? 
Surely  they  muft  break  our  hearts,  and  overwhelm  our 
fpirits !  Here  is  the  great  God,  who  has  millions  of 
fuperior  beings  to  ferve  him,  and  who  is  abfolutely  in- 
dependent upon  them  all,  troubled,  his  very  bowels 
troubled,  for  a  rebellious,  ufelefs,  trifling  Vv'orm  i  Be 
aftonifhed  at  this,  ye  angels  of  light,  who  are  the 
witnefles  of  fuch  amazing,  fuch  unbounded  conipaf- 
fion  !  and  wonder  at  it,  O  ye  fons  of  men,  who  are 
more  intimately  concerned  in  it,  ftand  and  adore,  as 
it  were,  in  iliatues  of  admiration !  It  is  true  thefe 
words  are  not  to  be  taken  literally,  as  though  the 
Deity  were  capable  of  forrow,  or  any  of  the  human 
padions ;  but  he  here  condefcends  to  adapt  himfelf  to 
the  language  of  mortals,  and  to  borrow  fuch  images 
as  will  convey  to  us  the  moft  lively  ideas  of  his  grace 
and  tendernefs  to  mourning  penitents;  and  no  image 
can  anfwer  this  end  better  than  that  of  a  Father,  whofe 
bowels  are  yearning  over  his  mourning  child,  proftrate 
at  his  feet,  and  who,  with  eager  embraces,  raifes  him 
up,  afluring  him  of  pardon  and  acceptance.  If  any 
of  you  know  what  it  is  to  receive  a  penitent  child  in 
fhis  manner,  while  all  the  father  is  tenderly  working 

within 


350  ^^^  Divine  Mercy  Serm.  i^. 

nvithin  you,  you  may  formfome  afFedIng  ideas  of  the 
readinefs  of  our  heavenly  Father  to  receive  returning 
finners  from  this  tender  ilJuftration. 

The  Lord  conck^des  this  moving  fpeech  with  a 
promife  that  includes  in  it  more  than  we  can  afk  or 
think,  fealed  vv'ith  his  own  facred  name.  I ixjill  furely 
have  mercy^  or  (according  to  the  more  emphatical  ori- 
ginal) v/ith  Mercy,  /  -wHl  have  mercy  upon  him^  faith 
the  Lord:  that  is,  I  v/ill  fhew  abundant  mercy  to  him, 
I  will  give  him  all  the  bleffings  that  infinite  mercy  can 
beftow  ;  and  v^?hat  can  be  needed  more  ?  This  pro- 
mife includes  pardon,  acceptance,  fandificatlon,  joy  in 
the  Holy  Gnofl:,  peace  of  confcience,  and  immortal 
life  and  glory  in  the  future  world.  O  firs!  what  a 
God,  what  a  Father  is  this  !  Who  is  a  God  like  unto 
ihce,  that  pardoneth  iniquity^  Src.  Micahvii,  18. 

And  can  you,  ye  mourners  in  Zion,  can  you  fear  a 
reje6lion  from  fuch  a  tender  Father  }  Can  you  dread 
to  venture  upon  fuch  abundant  mercies  ?  Is  there  a 
mourning  Ephraim  in  this  afl'embly  ?  I  may  call  you, 
as  God  did  Adam,  Ephraim^  where  art  thou  ?  Let  the 
word  of  God  find  you  out,  and  force  a  little  encou- 
ragement upon  you :  your  heavenly  Father,  whofe  an- 
gry hand  you  fear,  is  lifi:ening  to  your  groans,  and 
will  meafure  you  out  a  mercy  for  every  groan,  a  blef- 
fing  for  every  figh,  a  drop,  a  draught  of  confolation, 
for  every  tear.  His  bowels  are  moving  over  you,  and 
he  addrefies  you  in  fuch  language  as  this,  "  Is  this  my 
dear  fon  ?   is  this  my  plcafant  child  ?"  ,&c. 

And  as  to  vou,  ye  hardy  impenitents,  ye  abandon- 
ed profligates,  ye  carclcfs  formalifts,  ye  almoft  chrif- 
tians,  can  you  hear  thefe  things,  and  not  begin  now 
to  relent  ?  Do  you  not  find  your  frozen  hearts  begin 
to  thaw  Vv'ithin  you  ?  Can  you  refift  fuch  alluring 
grace  ?  Can  you  bear  the  thoughts  of  continuing  ene- 
mies to  fo  good,  {o  forgiving  a  Father }  Does  not 
Ephraim's  petition  now  rife  in  your  hearts,  ^tiirn  thou 
me,  and  I Jhall be  turned?  then  I  congratulate  you  upon 
this  happy  day ;  you  are  this  day  become  God's  dear 
.  fons,  the  children  of  his  delights,  Uc.  Is 


Serm.  ig.  lo  niounting  Peniterils.  35^ 

Is  there  a  wretch  fo  fenfelels,  To  wicked,  (o  aban- 
doned, as  to  refufe  to  return?   Where  art  thou,  hardy 
rebel  ?   Stand  forth,  and  meet  the  terrors  of  thy  doom. 
To  thee  I  muft  change  my  voice,  and,  inftead  of  re- 
prefenting  the  tender  compafficns  of  a  father,  muft 
denounce  the  terrors  of  an  angry  judge.     Thy  doom 
is  declared  and  fixt  by  the  fame  lips  that  fpeak  to  pe- 
nitents in  fuch  encouraging  ftrainsi   by  thofe  gracious 
lips  that  never  uttered  an  harlh  cen(ure.     God  is  angry 
with  thee  every  day.  Pfalm  vii.  11.      Except  thou  rc- 
pentefi.,  thou  fcalt  jurely  •perijlo.  Lukexiii.  3.     The  ex- 
ample of  Chrift  authorifes  me  to  repeat  it  again  \   Ex- 
cept thou  repenteji^  thou  JJoah  furely  perifjj,  ver.  5.    The 
God  that  made  thee  will  defiroy  thee  \  and  he  that  formed 
thee  zvilljloezv  thee  no  favour.  Ifai.  xxvi.  1 1.     Thou  art 
treafuring  up  wrath  in  horrid  affluence  againjl  the  day 
of  wrath.  Rom.  ii.  5.     God  is  jealous^  and  reve-^t^eth -, 
the  Lord  revengeth^  and  is  furious  ;  the  Lord  will  take 
vengeance  on  his  adverfaries  -,  ami  he  referveth  wrath  for 
his  enemies.    'The  mountains  quake  at  him  :  the  hills  melt  •, 
the  earth  is  burnt  at  his  prefence  -,  yea.,  the  world.,  and 
they  that  dwell  therein.     IVho  can  Jland  before  his  indig- 
nation ?     J'Vho  can  endure  in  the  fierccnefs  cf  his  anger  ? 
His  fury  is  poured  out  like  fire.,  and  the  rocks  are  thrown 
down  by  him.  Nahum  i.  2 — 6.     Thefe  flaming  thun- 
der-bolts, finner,  are  aimed  at  thy  heart,  and,  if  thou 
canft  harden  thyfelf  againft  their  terror,  let  me  read 
thee  thy  doom  before  we  part.  You  have  it  pronounc- 
ed by  God  himfelf  in  Deuteronomy,  the  tv/enty-ninth 
chapter,  at  the  nineteenth  and  following  verfes.  If  it 
come  to  pafs  that  when  he  heareth  the  words  of  this  curfe, 
that  he  blefs  himfelf  in  his  heart.,  faying.,  I  fJjall  have 
peace.y  though  I  walk  in  the  imagination  of  my  heart — 
The  Lord  will  not  fpare  him  •,  but  then  the  anger  of  the 
Lord  and  his  jealoufy  fhall  fmoke  againft  that  man.,  and 
all  the  curfes  that  are  written  in  this  book  fhall  lie. upon 
him.,  and  the  Lord  fo  all  blot  out  his  name  from  under  hea- 
ven •,  and  the  Lord  fijall  feparate  him  unto  evil  out  of  all 
the  tribes  of  Ifrael^  according  to  all  the  curfes  of  the  co- 
venant 


35 £  Chrijl  precious  to  Serm.  14* " 

venant  that  are  written  in  this  book  of  the  law.  And 
now  finner,  if  thou  canft  return  home  carelefs  and 
ienfelefs  with  this  heavy  curfe  upon  thee,  expect  not  a 
word  of  comfort,  exped  no  bleffing  till  thou  art  made 
truly  penitent  -,  for  "  how  fhall  I  blefs  whom  God  has 
not  bleffed?"  The  minifterial  bleffing  falls  upon  one 
on  thy  right  hand,  and  one  on  thy  left,  but  it  lights 
not  upon  thee.  The  curfe  is  thy  lot,  and  this  rnuft 
thou  have  at  the  hand  of  God,  if  thou  continued  har- 
dened and  infolent  in  fin.  'Thou  muji  lie  down  in  for-^ 
row.  Ifai.  1.  11.  Confider  this,  all  ye  that  forget  God, 
lefi  he  tear  you  in  pieces,  and  there  be  none  to  deliver* 
Pfalm  1.  22. 


SERMON     XIV- 

Chrift  precious  to  all  true  Believers, 


I  Peter  ii.  7.     Unto  you  therefore  which  believe^  He 
is  precious  * 

YES  ;  blefled  be  God  !  though  a  great  part  of  the 
creation  is  difafFeded  to  Jefus  Chrift ;  though 
fallen  fpirits,  both  in  flefh  and  without  flefh,  both 
upon  earth  and  in  hell,  neglecft  him,  or  profcfs  them- 
felves  open  enemies  to  him,  yet  he  is  precious  •,  pre- 
cious, not  only  in  himfelf,  not  only  to  his  Father,  not 
only  to  the  choirs  of  Heaven,  who  beheld  his  full 
glory  without  a  veil,  but  precious  to  fome  even  in  our 
gulity  world  j  precious  to  a  fort  of  perfons  of  our  fin- 
ful  race,  who  make  no  great  figure  in  mortal  eyes, 
who  have  no  idea  of  their  own  goodnefs,  who  are 
mean,  unworthy  creatures  in  their  own  view,  and  who 
are  generally  dcfpicable  in  the  view  of  others ;  I  meanj 

he 

*  Or  precioufnefs  in  the  abftraft,  Ttf*i}. 


Serm.  14.  all  true  Believers.  3 5 5^ 

he  is  precious  to  ail  true  believers.  And,  though  they 
are  but  few  comparatively  in  our  worid-,  though  there 
^re,  I  am  afraid,  but  few  additions  made  to  them 
from  among  us;  yet,  blciTed  be  God,  there  ?refome 
believers  even  upon  our  guilty  globe ;  and,  i  doubt 
not,  but  I  am  now  fpeaking  to  fome  fuch. 

My  believincj;  brethren  (if  I  may  venture  to  claim 
kindred  v.'ith  you)  1  am  now  entering  upon  a  defign, 
which  I  know  you  have  much  at  heart ;  and  that  is, 
to  make  the  blefled  Jefus  more  precious  to  you,  and, 
if  poflible,  to  recommend  him  to  the  affeftions  of  the 
crowd  that  negle(5l  him.  You  knov/,  alas !  you  love 
him  but  little;  but  very  little,-  compared  to  his  infi- 
nite excellency  and  your  obligations  to  .him;  and  you 
know  that  multitudes  love  him  not  at  all.  Whatever 
they  'profefs,  their  pra6lice  fhews  that  their  carnal 
minds  is  enmity  againft  him.  This  you  often  fee, 
and  the  fight  affefts  your  hearts.  It  deeply  alTefta 
you  to  think  fo  much  excellency  ihould  be  neglected 
and  defpifed,  and  fo  much  love  meet  with  fucli  bafe 
returns  of  ingratitude.  And  you  cannot  but  pity  your 
poor  fellow- linners,  that  they  are  (o  blind  to  the 
brighteft  glorv  and  their  own  higheft  intereft,  and 
that  they  iTiould  perifb,  through  wilful  negled:  of  their 
deliverer  ;  perifh,  as  it  were,  v/ithin  reach  of  the  hand 
ftretched  out  to  fave  them.  This  is  indeed  a  very  af- 
fecting, very  lamentable,  and  alas!  a  very  common 
fight.  And  will  you  not  then  bid  me  God  fpeed  this 
day  in  my  attempt  to  recommend  this  precious,  though 
neglected,  Jefus  ?  Will  you  not  contribute  your  fiiare 
towards  my  fuccefs  in  fo  pious  and  benevolent  a  defign 
by  your  earneft  prayers  ^  Now,  {hall  not  the  inter- 
ceding figh  rife  to  Pleaven  from  every  heart,  and  every 
foul  be  calr  into  a  praying  pofture  ?  I  ihalL  hope  to 
difcharge  my  duty  with  more  comfort  and  advantage^ 
if  you  afford  me  this  afllftance.  And  furely  fuch  of 
you  cannot  deny  me  this  aid,  who  defire  that  Jefus 
may  become  ftiil  more  precious  to  your  ov/n  hearts, 

Z  7.  ^i\d 


^54  Chrift  precious  to  Serm.^14,- 

and  that  he  may  be  the  objeft  of  unlverfal  love  from 
all  the  fons  of  men,  who  are  now  difaffefted  to  him ! 

To  you  that  believe^  he  is  'precious — He? — Who? 
Is  it  Mammon,  the  God  of  the  world  ?  Is  it  plea- 
fure,  or  honour  ?  No  ;  none  of  thefe  is  the  darling 
of  the  believing  heart.  But  it  is  he  who  is  the  upper- 
moft  in  every  pious  heart;  he,  who  is  firft  in  the 
thoughts  and  affe6lions ;  he,  whom  every  friend  of 
his  muft  know,  even  without  a  name ;  if  it  be  but 
faid  of  him,  he  is  precious,  this  is  enough  to  diftin- 
guifh  him  from  all  others.  "  If  it  be  he  the  apoftle 
"  means,  may  every  believer  fay,  who  is  moll:  preci- 
"  ous  to  my  foul,  then  I  can  eafily  point  him  out, 
"  though  without  a  name.  It  muft  be  Jefus,  for  O  ! 
"  it  is  he  that  is  mod:  precious  to  me.'*  The  connec- 
tion alfo  of  the  text  direfts  us  to  the  fame  perfon.  It 
is  he  the  apoftle  means,  whom  he  had  juft  defcribed 
as  a  living  ftone,  chofen  of  God,  and  the  precious  j 
the  chief  corner-ftone,  the  great  foundation  of  the 
church,  that  fpirltual  temple  of  God,  fo  ftately  and 
glorious,  and  reaching  from  earth  to  heaven  ;  it  is  this 
precious  ftone,  this  heavenly  jewel,  that  is  precious 
to  believers. 

"  To  you  that  believe^  he  is  precious  *,"  i.  e.  He  is 
highly  valued  by  you.  You  efteem  him  one  of  infi- 
nite worth,  and  he  has  the  higheft  place  in  your  affec- 
tions. He  is  dearer  to  your  hearts  than  all  other  per- 
fons  and  things.  The  word  "rty--^  requires  a  ftill  ftronger 
tranilation  :  "  To  you  that  believe,  he  is  precioufnefs  ;" 
precioufnefs  in  the  abftrai5t ;  all  precioufnefs,  and  no- 
thing but  precioufnefs  •,  a  precious  ftone  without  one 
blemifti.  Or  it  may  be  tranflated  with  a  little  varia- 
tion, "  To  you  that  believe,  he  is  honour."  It  con- 
fers the  higheft  honour  upon  you  to  be  related  to  him ;. 
and  you  efteem  it  your  higheft  honour  to  fuftain  that 
relation.  Though  Jefus  and  his  crofs  are  names  of 
reproach  In  the  unbelieving  world,  you  glory  in  them, 
and  they  refleft  a  real  glory  upon  you.     Or,  "  Ta 

"  you 


Serm.  14.  all  true  Believers.  355 

"  you  that  believe,  there  is  honour."*  Honour  is 
now  conferred  upon  you  in  your  being  built  as  living 
ftones  in  the  temple  of  God  upon  this  precious  founda- 
tion ;  and  honour  is  referved  for  you  in  heaven,  where 
the  crown  of  righteoufnefs  awaits  you. 

"  To  you  v/hich  believe,  he  is  precious  ;*'  that  is 
to  fay,  the  value  of  this  precious  ftone  is,  alas !  un- 
known to  the  crowd.  It  is  fo  far  from  being  precious, 
that  it  is  a  ftone  of  ftumbjing,  and  a  rock,  of  offence  •, 
a  ftone  difallowed  of  men  (v.  4.)  reje6led  even  by  the 
builders  (v.  7.)  -,  but  you  believers,  ye  happy  few, 
have  another  eftimate  of  it.  Faith  enables  you  to  fee 
the  glories  of  the  blefled  Jefus;  and,  when  you  know 
him  through  this  medium,  you  cannot  but  love  him. 
The  blind  world  negled  the  Lord  of  Glory,  becaufe 
they  known  him  not ;  but  you  believers  know  him, 
and  therefore  to  you  he  is  precious.  Faith  prefents 
him  to  your  view  in  a  juft  light,  and  direfts  you  to 
form  a  proper  eftimate  of  him.  It  is  truly  lamenta- 
ble that  fuch  real  excellency  ftiould  be  defpifed ;  but 
fo  it  will  be  with  the  world  till  they  believe.  The 
mere  fpeculative  recommendation  of  their  reafon,  the 
prepofleflions  of  education  in  his  favour,  and  the  beft 
human  means,  are  notfufficient  to  render  Jefus  precious 
to  them.     Nothing  but  faving  faith  can  eftecft  this. 

To  you  therefore  which  believe,  he  is  precious.  The 
illative  particle  therefore  fnews  this  paftage  is  an  infer- 
ence from  what  went  before  j  and,  the  reafoning  feems 
to  be  this  :  "  This  ftone  is  precious  to  God,  therefore 
it  is  precious  to  you  that  believe.  You  have  the  fame 
eftimate  of  Jefus  Chrift  which  God  the  Father  has  j 
and  for  that  very  reafon  he  is  precious  to  you,  becaufe 
he  is  precious  to  him."  That  this  is  the  connexion, 
will  appear  if  you  look  back  to  the  4th  and  6th  verfes  -, 
where  you  find  Jefus  defcribed  as  "  a  chief  corner- 
fcone,  laid  in  Zion,  ele6l  or  chofen,  and  precious — 
difallowed  indeed  of  men,  but  chofen  of  God,  and 

precious." 

*  The  pronoun  he,  is  not  in  the  original ;  but  the  pnflage  reads 
thus  ;  To  you  ivha  beiu've,  honour^ 


35^  Chrifi  precious  io  Serm.  14, 

precious."*  Men  wickedly  diiapprove  this  ftone, 
and  even  many  of  the  profefTed  builders  of  his  church 
rejed  him.  This,  fays  theapoftle,  mn{i  be  granted. 
But  this  is  no  objec^cion  to  his  real  worth.  He  is  pre- 
cious to  God,  who  knows  him  beft,  and  who  is  a  per- 
fect judge  of  real  excellency;  and  for  that  very  reafon 
he  is  precious  to  you  that  believe.  Faith  teaches  you 
to  look  upon  perfons  and  things  in  the  fame  light  in 
which  God  views  themj  it  makes  your  fentiments 
conformed  to  his.  Chrilt  is  the  Father's  beloved  Son, 
in  whom  he  is  well  pleafed  -,  and  he  is  your  beloved 
Saviour,  in  whom  you  are  well  pleafed. 

Is  it  any  wonder  that  Jefus  fnould  be  precious  to 
believers,  when  he  is  fo  precious  in  himfelf,  and  in 
his  offices,  fo  precious  to  the  angelic  armies,  and  fo 
precious  to  his  Father  ^ 

I.  He  is  precious  in  himfelf.  He  Is  Immanuel, 
God-m.an;  and  confequently,  whatever  excellencies 
belong  either  to  the  divine  or  human  nature,  center 
m  him.  If  wifdom,  power,  and  goodnefs,  divine  or 
human,  created  or  uncreated,  can  render  him  worthy 
of  the  higheft  affe(5lion,  he  has  a  juft  claim  to  it. — 
Whatever  excellencies,  natural  or  moral,  appear  in 
any  part  of  the  vaft  univerfe,  they  are  but  faint  fha- 
dov.'s  of  his  beauty  and  glory.  All  things  were  created 
by  him  and  for  hiin\  and  through  him  all  things  confift. 
Col.  i.  16,  17.  and  whatever  excellencies  are  in  the 
effedl  mufi  be  eminently  in  the  caufe.  You  do  notv;on- 
der  nor  cenfure,  when  you  fee  men  delighted  with  the 
glories  of  the  fun,  and  the  various  luminaries  of  the 
ilcy  :  you  do  not  wonder  nor  blame  when  they  take 
pleafure  in  the  beautiful  profpeds  of  nature,  or  in  that 
rich  variety  of  good  things,  v/hich  earth,  and  fea, 
and  every  element  furniflies  for  the  fupport  of  man, 
or  the  gratification  of  his  fenfes  :  you  do  not  wonder 
and  blame,  when  they  are  ftruck  with  mortal  beauty  ; 

Mdien 

*  The  word  ufed  in  vcr.  4  and  6,  is  a  compound,  rendered  pre- 
cious in  the  text.     And  this  is  an  intimation  tiiat  the  text  is  an'in 
ierence  from  the  above  verfes. 


Serm.  14.  all  true  Believers.  357 

when  you  fee  them  admire  and  approve  wifdom,  bene- 
volence, juftice,  veracity,  meeknefs,  and  mercy  :  you 
never  think  it  ftrange,  much  lefs  cenfurable,  that  men 
fhould  love  thefe  things,  and  count  them  precious  -, 
and  can  you  be  aftoniflied,  can  you  ridicule  or  find 
fault  that  Jefus  is  precious  to  poor  believers  ?  If  the 
copy  be  fo  fair  and  lovely,  who  would  not  love  the 
original,  that  has  eyes  to  behold  it  ?*  Believers  fee  fo 
much  of  the  worth  of  Chrift  as  is  fuificient  to  capti- 
vate their  hearts,  and  convince  them  of  their  guilt  in 
ioving  him  no  more  \  and  the  clearer  their  views  are 
of  him,  the  more  are  they  mortified  at  the  criminal 
defeds  of  their  love  j  for  O  !  they  fee  he  deferves  in- 
finitely more ! 

2.  The  Lord  Jefus  is  precious  in  his  offices.  His 
mediatorial  ofEce  is  generally  fubdivided  into  three 
parts;  namely,  that  of  a  prophet,  of  aprieft,  and  of 
a  king  :   and  how  precious  is  Chrift  in  each  of  thefe  \ 

As  a  prophet,  hov/  fvveet  are  his  inftruftions  to  a 
bcvs^ildered  foul !  How  precious  the  words  of  his  lips, 
which  are  the  words  of  eternal  life  !  How  delightful 
to  fit  and  hear  him  teach  the  way  of  duty  and  happi- 
nefs,  revealing  the  Father,  and  the  wonders  of  the 
invifible  flate  !  How  tranfporting  to  hear  him  declare 
upon  v/hat  terms  an  offended  God  may  be  reconciled  ! 
a  difcovery  beyond  the  fearches  of  all  the  fages  and 
philofophers  of  the  heathen  world  !  How  reviving  is 
it  to  liften  to  his  gracious  promifes  and  invitations  ! 
promifes  and  invitations  to  the  poor,  the  weary,  and 
heavy  laden,  the  broken-hearted,  and  even  to  the 
chief  of  finners!  The  word  of  Chrift  has  been  the 
ireafure,  the  fupport,  and  joy  of  believers  in  all  ages. 
/  have  ejicemed  the  words  of  his  mouth,^  fays  Job,  more 
than  my  necejjary  food,  job  xxiii.  12.  It  is  this  preci- 
ous word  the  Pfalmift  fb  often  and  fo  highly  celebrates. 
He  celebrates  it  as  more  to  be  defired  than  gold  \  yea., 
than  much  fine  gold:  jweeter  alfo  than  honey .^  and  the 
honey-comb.  Pfalm  xix.  10.  O  how  I  love  thy  law! 
f-iy^  he  -,  //  is  my  meditation  all  the  day.  Pfalm  cxix.  97. 

How 


35S  Chrijl  precious  to  Serm.  14,' 

How  fu^eet  are  thy  words  unto  my  tafte !  yea,  fweeter 
than  honey  to  my  r.iouth.  ver.  103.  'The  law  of  thy 
mouth  is  better  than  thoujands  of  gold  andfihcr*  ver.  72. 
Behold^  I  have  longed  after  thy  precepts,  ver.  40.  Thy 
Jiatutes  have  been  my  fong  in  the  houfe  of  my  pilgrimage. 
ver.  54.  In  my  afflictions  thy  word  hath  quickened  me. 
ver.  ^o.  Unlefs  thy  law  had  been  my  delight^  I  fhould 
then  have  perifhedin  my  affli^ficn.  ver.  92.  This  is  the 
language  of  Bavid^  in  honour  of  this  divine  Prophet, 
near  three  thoufand  years  ago,  when  Chrift  had  not 
revealed  the  full  gofpel  to  the  world,  but  only  fome 
rays  of  it  (hone  through  the  veil  of  the  Mofaic  dif- 
penfatioii.  And  muft  not  believers  now,  who  live 
under  the  more  complete  and  clear  inftrudtions  of  this 
great  Prophet,  entertain  the  fame  fentiments  of  him  ? 
Yes,  to  fuch  of  you  as  believe,,  even  in  this  age,  he 
is  moft  precious. 

But  this  external  objeftive  inftruftion  is  not  all  that 
Chrift  as  a  prophet  communicates  •,  and  indeed,  did 
he  do  no  more  than  this,  it  would  anfwer  no  valuable 
end.  The  mind  of  man,  in  his  prefent  fallen  ftate, 
like  a  difordered  eye,  is  incapable  of  perceiving  di- 
vine things  in  a  proper  light,  however  clearly  they  are 
revealed  \  and  therefore,  till  the  perceiving  faculty  be 
reftified,  all  external  revelation  is  in  vain,  and  is  only 
like  opening  a  fair  profpe6t  to  a  blind  eye.  Hence 
this  great  Prophet  carries  his  inftrudions  farther,  not 
only  by  propoiing  divine  things  in  a  clear  objedlive 
light  by  his  word,  but  inwardly  enlightening  the  mindj 
and  enabling  it  to  perceive  what  is  revealed  by  his 
Spirit.  And  how  precious  are  thefe  internal  fubjec- 
tive  inftrucffcions !  How  fweet  to  feel  a  difordered  dark 
mind  opening  to  admit  the  fninings  of  heavenly  day  j 
to  perceive  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jefus  Chrift, 
the  ber-uties  of  holinefs,  and  the  majeftic  wonders  of 
the  eternal  world  !  Speak,  ye  that  know  by  happy 
experience,  and  tell  how  precious  Jefus  appears  to  you, 
when  by  his  own  blefted  Spirit  he  fcatters  the  cloud 
that  benighted  your  underftandings,  and  lets  in  the 

rays 


Serm.  14-  ail  true  Believers.  ^^g 

rays  of  his  glory  upon  your  admiring  fouls-,  when  he 
opens  your  eyes  to  fee  the  wonders  contained  in  his 
law,  and  the  glorio»s  myfteries  of  his  gofpel.  What 
a  divine  glory  does  then  fpread  upon  every  page  of  the 
facred  volume  !  Then  it  indeed  appears  the  Book  of 
God,  God-like,  and  worthy  its  Author.  O  precious 
Jefus  !  let  us  all  this  day  feel  thine  enlightening  influ- 
ences, that  experience  may  teach  us  how  fweet  they 
are  !  Come,  great  Prophet  I  come,  and  make  thine 
own  fpirit  our  teacher,  and  then  fhall  we  be  divinely 
wife! 

Again,  tht  Lord  Jefus  is  precious  to  believers  as  a 
great  High  Piieil:.  As  an  high  priefi,  he  made  a 
comphte  atonement  for  fin  by  his  propitiatory  facrifice 
on  the  crofs;  and  he  ftill  makes  intercefiion  for  the 
tranfgreffors  on  his  throne  in  heaven.  It  was  his  facri- 
fice that  fatisfied  the  demands  of  the  law,  and  judice 
of  God,  and  rendered  him  reconcileable  to  the  guilty, 
upon  terms  confident  with  his  honour  and  the  rights 
of  his  government.  It  was  by  virtue  of  this  facrifice 
that  he  procured  pardon  of  fin,  the  favour  of  God, 
freedom  from  hell,  and  eternal  life  for  condemned  ob- 
noxious rebels.  And  fuch  of  you  who  have  ever  felt 
the  pangs  of  a  guilty  confcience,  and  obtained  relief 
from  Jefus  Chrift,  you  can  tell  how  precious  his  aton- 
ing facrifice.  How  did  it  eaie  your  felf-tormenting 
Gonfciences,-  and  heal  your  broken  hearts  1  How  did 
it  change  the  frov«^ns  of  an  angry  God  into  fmiles  of 
love,  and  your  trembling  apprehenfions  of  vengeance 
into  delightful  hopes  of  mercy  !  How  precious  did 
Jefus  appear,  with  a  pardon  in  his  hand,  with  atoning 
blood  gufiiing  from  his  opened  veins,  and  making  his 
crofs,  as  it  were,  the  key  to  open  the  gates  of  heaven 
for  your  admiffion  !  Blefled  Saviour !  our  great  High 
Prieft,  thus  appear  to  us  in  all  thy  pontifical  robes  dyed 
in  thine  own  blood,  and  caufe  us  all  to  feel  the  efncacy 
of  thy  propitiation  ! 

Let  us  next  turn  our  eyes  upv/ards,  and  view  this 
great  High  Prieft  as  our  intercelTor  in.  the  prefence  of 

God. 


500  Ckriji  precious  to  Sttm.  14; 

God.  Theie  he  appears  as  a  Iamb  that'  was  flain, 
bearing  the  mem'jrials  of  his  facrifice,  and  putting  the 
Father  in  remembrance  of  the  bleffings  purchafed  for 
his  people.  There  he  urges  it  as  his  pleafure,  as  his 
authoritative  will,  that  thefe  bleffings  ftiould  in  due 
time  be  conferred  upon  thofe  for  whom  they  were 
purchafed.  In  this  authoritative  manner  he  could  in- 
tercede even  in  the  days  of  his  humiliation  upon  earth, 
becaufe  of  the  Father's  covenant-engagements  with 
him,  the  accomplifliment  of  which  he  has  a  right  to 
demand,  as  well  as  humbly  to  petition  :  Father^  I  will, 
■  /  'W!il  that  thofe  whom  thou  hafi  given  me,  rriay  he  with 
me,  &c.  John  xvii.  24..  Now  how  precious  muft 
Chrift  appear  in  the  charafter  of  Intercefibr  !  That 
the  friendlefs  (inner  ihould  have  an  all-prevailing  ad- 
vocate in  the  court  of  heaven  to  undertake  his  caufe  ! 
that"  the  great  High  Prieft  fhould  offer  up  the  grateful 
incenfe  of  his  own  merit,  with  the  prayers  of  the 
faints !  that  he  fhould  add  the  fandion  of  his  authori- 
tative will  to  the  humble  petitions  of  faith !  that  he 
fhould  urge  the  claims  of  his  people,  as  his  own  claims^ 
founded  upon  an  unchangeable  covenant  v.'ith  his 
Father,  of  which  he  has  fully  performed  the  condi- 
tions required  !  that  he  fhould  not  intercede  occafion- 
ally,  but  ahvays  appear  in  the  holy  of  holies  as  the 
conftant  ever-living  Intercefibr,  and  maintain  the  fame 
intereft,  the  fame  importunity  at  all  times,  even  when 
the  petitions  of  his  people  languiHi  upon  their  lips  ! 
What  delirhtful  reilecftions  are  thefe !   and  how  warm- 

o 

]y  mav  thev  recommend  the  Lord  Jefus  to  the  hearts 
of  believers  1  How  juft  is  the  apoftle's  inference, 
Having  an  High  Priejl  over  the  houfe  of  God,  let  us 
draw  7iear  with  a  true  heart,  in  full  ajjurance  of  faith^ 
and  let  us  hold  fafi  the  profeffion  of  our  faith  without 
wavering.  Heb.  x.  21 — 23.  He  is  able  to  five  to  the 
utter niGJi  all  that  come  unto  God  by  him  -,  for  this  reafon, 
becaufe  he  ever  liveth  to  make  interceffion  for  them.  Heb. 
vii.  25.  May  each  of  us  intruft  his  caufe  to  this  all- 
prevailing  Advocate,  and  we  fhall  certainly  gain  it ! 

The 


Serni.  14^  nil  ims  Believers,  ^Ci 

The  unchangeable  promife  has  pafleci  his  lip^,  that 
whatfoever  -vue  ajk  the  Father  in  faith  and  in  his  name, 
he  "will give  it  us.  John  xvi.  23. 

Let  me  add,  the  kingly  office  of  Chrift  is  precious 
to  believers.  As  King  he  gives  laws  ;  laws  perfecdy 
wife  and  good,  and  enforced  with  the  moft  important 
fandtions,  everlaPdng  rewards  and  punifhments.  And 
how  delightful,  how  advantageous,  to  live  under  fucli 
a  government!  to  have  our  duty  difcovered  v/ith  fo 
much  ciearnefs  and  certainty,  v/hicli  frees  us  from  fo 
maiiy  painful  anx'eties,  and  to  have  fuch  powerful 
motives  to  obedience,  which  have  a  tendency  to  infufe 
vigour  and  fpirit  into  our  endeavours  !  As  King,  he 
appoints  ordinances  of  worlliip.  And  how  fweet  to 
converfe  with  him  in  thefe  ordiriO.nces,  and  to  be  freed 
from  perplexity  about  that  manner  of  worfhip  which 
God  will  accept,  without  being  expofed  to  that  quef- 
tion,  fo  confounding  to  will-worfhippcrs,  Tf'l-o  hath 
required  this  at  your  hands?  As  King,  he  is  head  ovet- 
all  things  to  his  church,  and  manages  the  whole  cre- 
ation, as  is  moft  fubfervient  to  her  good.  The  various 
ranks  of  creatures  in  heaven,  earth,  and  hell,  are  fub- 
je6l  to  his  direcftion  and  controul ;  and  they  muft  all 
co-operate  for  the  good  of  his  people.  He  reclaims, 
confounds,  fubdues,  or  deitroys  their  enemies,  accord- 
ing to  his  pleafure.  And  how  precious  muft  he  be  iii 
this  auguft  charaeler  to  the  feeble  helplefs  believer  ! 
To  have  ahalm.ighty  friend  fitting  at  the  helm  of  the 
univerfe,  with  the  fupreme  management  of  all  things 
in  his  hands  •,  to  be  affured  that  even  the  moft  injuri- 
ous enemy  can  do  the  believer  no  real  or  lafting  in-^ 
jury,  but  ftiall  at  length  concur  to  work  his  greateit 
good  ;  and  that,  come  v/hat  will,  it  fhall  go  Vv-ell  with 
him,  and  he  fhall  at  laft  be  made  triumphant  over  all 
difHculty  and  oppofition.  O  !  whattranrporting  con- 
fiderations  are  here  I  But  this  is  not  the  whole  exer- 
cife  of  the  royal  pov/er  of  Chrift.  He  not  only  makes 
laws  and  ordinances,  and  rcftrains  the  enemies  of  his 
people,  but  he  exercifes  his  pov/er  inv/ardly  upon  their 

A  a  a  hearts. 


^6z  Cbrift  precious  to  Serm.  14. 

hearts.  He  is  the  King  of  foulsi  he  reigns  in  the 
hearts  of  his  fubjetfls  •,  and  how  infinitely  dear  and  pre- 
cious is  he  in  this  view  !  To  feel  him  fubdue  the  re- 
bellion within,  fweetly  bending  the  ftubborn  heart  into 
willing  obedience,  and  reducing  every  thought  into  a 
cheerful  captivity  to  himfelf,  writing  his  law  upon  the 
heart,  making  the  difpofitions  of  his  fubjedls  a  tran- 
fcript  of  his  will,  correfponding  to  it,  like  wax  to  the 
feal,  how  delightful  is  all  this  !  O  the  pleafures  of 
humble  fubmifiion !  Kow  pleafant  to  lie  as  fubjefts 
at  the  feet  of  this  mediatorial  King  without  arrogat- 
inej  the  fovereignty  ourfelves,  for  which  we  are  utter- 
IvlnfufFicient  1  Elefled  Jefus !  thus  reign  in  our  hearts  1 
thus  fubdue  the  nations  to  the  obedience  of  faith! 
Gird  thy  /word  upon  thy  thigh^  O  moji  Mighty!  and 
'  ride  prcfperoufly^  attended  wiih  majejly^  truths  meeknefs^ 
end  rigbteoufnefs.  Pfalm  xlv.  3,  4.  Send  the  rod  of  thy 
firen7th  out  of  Sion :  rule  thou  in  the  midji  of  thine  ene- 
mies^ Pfalm  ex.  2.  rule  us,  and  fubdue  the  rebel  in 
our  hearts. 

Thus  you  fee  the  Lord  Jefus  is  precious  to  believers 
in  all  the  views  of  his  mediatorial  office.  But  he  is 
not  precious  to  them  alone  ;  he  is  beloved  as  far  as 
known,  and  the  more  known  the  more  beloved : 
which  leads  me  to  add, 

3.  He  is  precious  to  all  the  angels  of  heaven. 
St.  Peter  tells  us  that  the  things  now  reported  to 
us  by  the  gofpel  arc  things  which  the  angels  dejire  to  look 
into.  I  Pet.  i.  12.  Jefus  is  the  wonder  of  angels  now 
in  heaven  ;  and  he  was  fo  even  when  he  appeared  in 
the  form  of  a  fervant  upon  earth.  St.  Paul  mentions 
it  as  one  part  of  the  great  myftery  of  godlinefs,  that 
God  manifefied  in  the  fieflj  ivas  feen  of  angels.  1  Tim.  iii. 
16.  Angels  fiw  him  and  admired  and  loved  him  in 
the  various  ftages  of  his  life,  from  his  birth  to  his  re- 
turn to  his  native  heaven.  Hear  the  manner  in  which 
angels  celebrated  his  entrance  into  our  world.  One 
of  them  fprcad  his  wings,  and  flew  v/ith  joyful  hafte 
to  a  company  of  poor  fliepherds  that  kept  their  mid- 
night 


Serm.  14.  all  true  Believers.  363 

night  watches  in  the  field,  and  abruptly  tells  the  news, 
of  which  his  heart  was  full :  Behold^  I  bring  you  good 
tidings  of  great  JG)\  'ujkicb  faall  he  to  all  people  -,  [or  to 
you  is  horn  this  day,  in  the  city  of  David,  a  Saviour^ 
'which  is  Chrijl  the  Lord :  and  fuddenly  there  ivas  loith 
the  angel  a  mii.titude  of  the  heavenly  hoji.     Crowds  of 
angels  left  their  ilations  in  the  celsfbial  court  in  that 
memorable  hour,  and  hovered  over  the  place  where 
their  incarnate  God  lay  in  a  manger  :   Jefus,  their  dar- 
Jing,  was  gone  down  to  earth,  and  they  muft  follow 
him  ;   for  v/ho  would  not  be  where  Jefus  is  ?     Men, 
ungrateful  men,  were  filent  upon  that  occafion,   but 
angels  tuned   their  fong  of  praife.     The  aftoniihed 
fhepherds  heard  them  fmg.  Glory  to  God  in  the  higheft; 
on  earth  peace-,  good-will  to  jnen.    Luke  ii.  10 — 14. 
When  he  bringeth  his  firft-born  into  the  world,  the 
Father  faith,  Let  all  the  angels  of  God  worf/oip  him. 
Heb.  i.  6.      This  feems  to  intimate  that  all  the  angels 
crov/ded  round  the  manger,  where  the  infant  God  lay, 
and  paid  him  their  humble  v/orfliip.     We  are  told, 
that  when  the  Devil  had  finifhed  his  long  procefs  of 
temptations,  after  forty  days,  and  had  left  him,  the 
angels  came  and  tninijtered  unto  him.    Matt.  iv.   j  i. 
When  this  difagreeable  companion  had  left  him,  his 
old  attendants  were  fond  of  renewingr  their  fervice  to 
him.     In  every  hour  of  dimculty  they  were  ready  to 
fly  to  his  aid.     He  was  (tQn  of  angels,  in  his  hard 
confli(5t,    in  the  garden   of  Gethfemane ;  and  one  of 
them  appeared  unto  him  from  heaven,  firengthening  him. 
Luke  xxii.  43.     With  what  wonder,  fympathy,  and 
readinefs  did   this  angelic  afliftant  raife  his  prollirate 
Lord  from  the  cold  ground,  wipe  otf  his  bloody  fweat, 
and  fupport  his  finking  fpirit  with  divine  encourage- 
ments !      But,  O !   ye  blefled  angels,  ye  ufual  fpefta- 
tors,  and  adorers  of  the  divine   glories  of  our  Re- 
deemer, with  what  aftonifhment  and  horror  were  vou 
Icruck,  when  you  faw  him  expire  on  the  crofs  !  ■ 

*'  Around 


364  Chriji  precious  to  Serm.  i^i. ' 

•'  Around  the  bloody  tree 
"  Ye  prefs'd  with  llrong  defirc, 
"  That  A'ondroas  fight  to  fee, 
"  The  Lord  of  life  expire! 

''  Apd,  could  your  eyes 

"  Have  known  a  tear, 

"  Had  dropt  it  there 

"  In  lad  furprize."* 

.  ^Ye  alfo  hovered  round  his  tomb,  while  he  lay  in 
the  prrfon  of  the  grave.  The  weeping  women  and 
his  other  friends  found  you  ftationed  there  in  their 
early  impatient  vifits  to  the  fepulchre.  O  what  won- 
ders then  appeared  to  your  aftonifhed  minds  !  Could 
you,  that  piy  fo  deep  into  the  fecrets  of  heaven,  you 
that  know  fo  well  what  divine  love  can  do,  could  you 
have  thought  that  even  divine  love  could  have  gone  fo 
far  ?  could  have  laid  the  Lord  of  Glory  a  pale,  man- 
gled, fenfelefs  corps  in  the  manfions  of  the  dead  ? 
Was  not  this  a  ftrange  furprize  even  to  you  ?  And, 
when  the  appointed  day  began  to  draw,  with  what 
eager  and  joyful  hafle  did  ye  roll  away  the  flone,  and 
fet  open  the  prifon  doors,  that  the  rifing  conqueror 
jnieht  march  forth ! 

*'  And  when  array'd  in  light, 
"   The  fhining  Conqueror  rode, 
"  Ye  haii'd  his  rapt'rous  flight 
*'  Up  to  the  throne  of  God ; 

"  And  wav'd  around 

"  Your  golden  wings, 

"  And  ftrucic  your  firings 

"  Of  fweeteft' found. "t 

%Vhen  he  afcended  on  high,  he  Vv'as  attended  with 
ihe  chariots  cf  God,  ivhich  are  tijoeniy  thoufand^  even 
tkoufands  cf  angels.  Pfalm  Ixviii.  17,  18.  Ana  now, 
when  he  is  returned  to  dwell  among  them,  Jefus  is 
iliU  the  darling  of  angels.  His  name  founds  from  all 
their  harps,  and  his  love  is  the  h;bje(5l  of  their  ever- 

lailing 

*  Doddridge. 
f  An  excellent  hynan  of  Tii,  Doddridge's  on  1  Tim.  iii.  16.— 
Seen  ox  Angels. 


Serra.  14.'  all  true  Believers.  365 

lafting  Tong.  St.  John  once  heard  thenij  and  I  hope 
we  fhall  ere  long  hear  them,  faying  with  a  loud  voice, 
WcTt-thy  is  the  Lamb  that  ijuasjlain^  to  receive  power\  and 
riches^  and  wifdorn^  and  ftrength^  and  honour^  and  glor\\ 
and  blejjing.  Rev.  v.  11,  12. — This  is  the  fong  of  an- 
gels, as  well  as  of  the  redeemed  from  among  men : 

♦'  Jefas,  the  Lord,  their  harps  emp'iys  j 
•'  Jefus,  my  love,  they  fing  : 
"  Jefas,  the  name  of  bo:h  our  joys, 
"  Sounds  fweet  from  ev'ry  firing."* 

O  my  brethren,  could  we  fee  what  is  doing  in  hea- 
ven at  this  inftant,  how  would  it  furprize,  aftonifh, 
and  confound  us!  Do  you  think  the  name  of  Jefus 
is  of  as  little  importance  there  as  in  our  world  ?  Do 
you  think  there  is  one  lukewarm  or  difaifeded  heart 
there  among  t^w  thoufand  times  ten  thoufand,  and 
thoufands  of  thoufands  ?  O  no !  there  his  love  is  the 
ruling  paflion  of  every  heart,  and  the  favourite  theme 
of  every  fong.  And  is  he  fo  precious  to  angels  t  to 
angels,  v/ho  are  lefs  interefted  in  him,  and  lefs  indebt- 
ed to  him?  And  muft  he  not  be  precious  to  poor 
behevers  bought  with  his  b!ood,  and  entitled  to  life  by 
his  death?  Yes,  you  that  believe  have  an  angelic 
fpirit  in  this  refpeft  ;  you  love  Jefus,  though  unfeen, 
as  well  as  they  who  fee  him  as  he  is,  though,  alas !  in 
a  far  lefs  deg, ree.  But  to  bring  his  v/orth  to  the  his-lieft 
ftandard  of  all,  I  add, 

4.  He  is  infinitely  precious  to  his  Father,  who  tho- 
roughly knov»'s  him,  and  is  an  infallible  Judge  of  real 
worth.  He  proclaimed  more  than  once  from  the  ex- 
cellent glory,  This  is  my  heloued  Son,  in  '■juhom  I  am 
pleafed;  hear  ye  him.  Behold,  fays  he,  my  fer-vant, 
whom  I  uphold  -,  mine  eleEi,  in  whom  my  foul  delighteth. 
I  fa.  xlii.  1 .  He  is  called  by  the  names  of  the  tendereft 
endearment;  his  Son,  his  own  Son,  his  dear  Son,  the 
Son  of  his  love.  He  is  a  ftone,  difallov/ed  indeed  of 
men;  if  their  approbation  v.'ere  the  true  ftandard  of 

rr.si-itj 

*  Wacrs's  Hor*  Lyric. 


gSG  Chrifi  precious  to  Serm.  14/ 

merit,  he  rrrnft  be  looked  upon  as  a  very  worthlefs, 
infignificant  being,  unworthy  of  their  thoughts  and 
ajfFe6tions.  But  let  men  form  what  eftiniate  of  him 
they  pleafe,  he  is  chofen  of  God,  and  precious.  And 
ihail  not  the  love  of  the  omnifcient  God  have  weight 
with  believers  to  love  him  too?  Yes,  the  apoftlc  ex- 
prefsly  draws  the  confeqnence;  he  is  precious  to  God, 
therefore  to  you  that  believe,  he  is  precious.  It  is 
the  charadleriftic  of  even  the  meaneft  believer,  that 
he  is  God-like.  He  is  a  partaker  of  the  divine  na- 
ture, and  therefore  views  things,  in  fome  meafure,  as 
God  does ;  and  is  affected  towards  them  as  God  is, 
though  there  be  an  infinite  difference  as  to  the  degree. 
He  prevailingly  loves  what  God  loves,  and  that  be- 
caufe  God  loves  it. 

And  now,  my  hearers,  what  think  you  of  Chrift  r 
Will  you  not  think  of  him  as  believ^ers  do?     If  fo, 
he  will  be  precious  to  your  hearts  above  all  things  for 
,  the  future.     Or  if  you  difregard  this  ftandard  of  ex- 
cellence, as  being  but  the  eftimate  of  fallible  crea- 
tures, will  you  not  think  of  him  as  angels  do;  angels, 
thofe  bright  intelligences,  to  whom  he  reveals  his  un- 
veiled glories,  who  are   more  capable  of  perceiving 
and  judgin'g  of  him,  and  who  therefore  muft  know 
him  better  than  you-,  angels,  who  have  had  along 
acquaintance  v/ith  him  at  home,  if  I  may  fo  fpeak, 
for  near  fix  thoufand  years,  as  God,  i.  e.  ever  fince 
their  creation,    and  for  near  two  tlioufand  years  as 
God-man  ?     Since  angels    then,  who   Icnow  him  fo 
thoroughly,  love  him  fo   highly,  certainly  you  may 
fafely  venture  to  love  him-,  you  might  fafely  venture 
to  love  him  implicitly,  upon  their  word.     He  died  fc* 
you,  which  is  more  than  ever  he  did  for  them,  and 
will  you  not  love  him  after  al!  this  love  ?     It  is  not 
the  mode  to  think  much  of  him  in  our  world,  but  it 
is  the  mode  in  heaven.     Yes,  bleffed  be  God,  if  lie  be 
defpifed  and  rejcited  of  men,  he  is  not  defpifed  and 
rejecTied  of  angeis.     Angels,  that  knov/  him  bell:,  love 
him  above  all,  and,  as  far  as  their  cr.pacity  will  alk)w. 

do 


Serm.  14.  aU  true  Believers.  ^6j 

do  juliice  to  his  rrierit :  and  this  is  a  very  comfortabje 
thought  to  a  heart  broken  with  a  fcnfe  of  the  negled: 
and  contempt  he  meets  v/ith  among  men.  BleiTed 
Jefus  !  may  not  one.  congregation  be  got  together, 
even  upon  our  guilty  earth,  that  fhall  in  this  refpecft 
be  like  the  angels,  all  lovers  of  thee  ?  O  !  wliy  rtiould 
this  be  impolTible,  while  they  are  all  fo  much  in  need 
of  thee,  all  fo  much  obliged  to  thee,  and  thou  art  fo 
lovely  in  thyfelf?  Why,  my  brethren,  fhouid  not 
this  congregation  be  made  up  of  iuch,  and  fuch  only 
as  are  lovers  of  Jefus  ?  Why  iliould  he  not  be  pre- 
cious to  every  one  of  you,  rich  and  poor,  old  and 
young,  white  and  black  ?  What  reafon  can  any  one 
of  you  give  v/hy  you  in  particular  ihould  negled:  him  ? 
I  am  fure  you  can  give  none.  And  will  you,  without 
any  reafon,  diflent  from  all  the  angels  in  heaven,  in 
point  of  which  they  muft  be  the  moft  competent 
judges  ?  Will  you  differ  from  them,  and  agree  in 
your  fentiments  of  Chrin:  with  the  ghofts  of  hell,  his 
implacable,  but  conquered  and  miferable  enemies  ? 

l^  all  this  has  no  weight  with  you,  let  me  afk  you 
farther,  Will  you  not  agree  to  that  efcim.ate  of  Jefus 
which  his  Father  has  of  him .''  Will  you  run  counter 
to  the  fupreme  reafon  ?  Will  you  fet  up  yourfelves 
as  wifer  than  omnifciencc  ?  Flow  muft  Jehovah  re- 
fent  it  to  fee  a  worm  at  his  foot-ftool  daringr  to  defpife 
him,  whom  he  loves  fo  highly  ?  O  let  him  be  pre- 
cious to  you,  becaufe  he  is  fo  to  God,  who  knows 
him  beft. 

But  I  am  fliocked  at  my  own  attempt. — O  precious 
Jefus  I  are  matters  come  to  that  pais  in  our  world, 
that  creatures  bought  with  thy  blood,  creatures  that 
owe  all  their  hopes  to  thee,  fhouid  ftand  in  need  of 
perfuafions  to  love  thee  ?  What  horrors  attend  the 
thought !  Flowever,  blefled  be  God,  there  are  fome, 
even  among  men,  to  whom  he  is  precious.  This 
world  is  not  entirely  peopled  with  the  defpifcrs  of 
Chrift.    To  as  many  of  you  as  believe,  he  is  precious. 


though  to  none  elfe. 


Would 


3 58  Chriji  precious  to  Serm.  14 

Would  you  know  the  reafon  of  this  ?  I  will  tell 
you ;  none  but  believers  have  eyes  to  fee  his  glory, 
none  but  they  are  fenfible  of  their  need  of  him,  and 
none  but  they  have  learned  from  experience  how  pre- 
cious he  is. 

I.  None  but  believers  have  eyes  to  fee  the  glory 
of  Chrift.  As  the  knowledge  of  Chrift  is  entirely 
from  revelation,  an  avowed  unbeliever,  who'rejed:s 
that  revelation,  can  have  no  right  knowledge  of  him, 
and  therefore  muft  be  entirely  indifferent  towards  hirri, 
as  on^  unknown,  or  muft  defpife  and  abhor  him  as 
an  enthufiafl  or  impoftor.  But  one,  who  is  not  an 
unbeliever  in  profeffion  or  fpeculation,  may  yet  be 
deftitute  of  that  faith  which  conftitutes  a  true  believer, 
and  which  renders  Jefus  precious  to  the  foul.  Even 
devils  are  very  orthodox  in  fpeculation  :  Devils  be- 
lieve, and  trem.ble;  and  they  could  cry  out,  JVhat 
have  ws  to  da  with  thee^  J^Jus  of  Nazareth  ?  fVe  know 
ihee^  who  thou  art  *,  even  the  Holy  One  of  God.  Mark  i. 
24..  And  there  are  crowds  among  us  who  believe, 
after  a  fafhion,  that  Chrift  is  the  true  Mefliah,  who 
yet  fhew  by  their  pradlices  that  they  negleft  him  in 
their  hearts,  and  are  not  believes  in  the  full  import  of 
t)\^  character.  True  faith  includes  not  only  a  fpecu- 
Jative  knowledge  and  belief,  but  a  clear,  affecfting,  re- 
alizing view,  and  an  hearty  approbation  of  the  things 
known  and  believed  concerning  Jefus  Chrift  ;  and  fuch 
a  view,  fuch  an  approbation,  cannot  be  produced  by 
any  human  meanc,  but  only  by  the  enlightening  in- 
fluence of  the  holy  Spirit  fhining  into  the  heart. — ■ 
Without  fuch  a  faith  as  this,  the  mind  is  all  dark  and 
blind  as  to  the  glory  of  Jefus  Chrift ;  it  can  fee  no 
beauty  in  him,  that  he  fnould  be  defired.  Honoura- 
ble and  fublime  fpeculations  concerning  him  may  hover 
m.  the  underftanding,  and  the  tongue  may  pronounce 
many  pompous  panegyrics  in  his  praife,  but  the  un- 
derftanding has  no  realizing,  afFedling  views  of  his 
excellency  ;  nor  does  the  heart  delight  in  him  and  love 
him  as  infinitely  precious   and  lovely.     The  God  of 

this 


Serm.  14-  aU  true  Believers.  3^9 

this  world,  the  prince  of  darknefs,  has  blinded  the 
minds  of  them  that  believe  not,  left  the  light  of  the 
glorious  gofpel  of  Chrift  ihould  jQi'ine  into  them.  But 
as  to  the  enli2;htened  believer,  God,  who  firil  com- 
manded light  to  ihine  out  of  darknefs,  has  fhined  into 
his  heart,  to  give  him  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of 
the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Tefus  Chrift.  This 
divine  illumination  pierces  the  cloud  that  obfcured  his 
underftanding,  and  enables  him  to  view  the  Lord 
Jefus  in  a  ftrong  and  ftriking  light ;  a  light  entirely 
different  from  that  of  the  crowd  around  him  -,  a  light, 
in  which  it  is  impoftible  to  view  this  glorious  objecfb 
without  loving  him.  A  believer  and  an  unbeliever 
may  be  equally  orthodox  in  fpeculation,  and  have  the 
fame  notions  in  theory  concerning  Jefus  Chrift,  and 
yet  it  is  certainly  true,  that  their  views  of  him  are 
vaftly  diff'erent.  Believers!  do  you  think  that,  if  the 
Chrift-defpifmg  multitude  around  you  had  the  fame 
views  of  his  worth  and  precioufnefs  which  you  have, 
they  could  negledl  him  as  they  do.''  It  is  impoftible. 
You  could  once  negleft  him,  as  others  do  now  ;  you 
were  no  more  charmed  with  his  beauty  than  they. 
But  O  !  when  you  v/ere  brought  out  of  darknefs  into 
God's  marvellous  light,  when  the  glories  of  the  neg- 
lected Saviour  broke  in  upon  your  aftonifhed  minds, 
then  v/as  It  poftible  for  you  to  withhold  your  love  from 
him  ?  Were  not  your  hearts  captivated  with  delight- 
ful violence  ?  You  could  no  more  refift.  Did  not 
your  hearts  then  as  naturally  and  freely  love  him, 
whom  they  had  once  difgufted,  as  ever  they  loved  a 
dear  child  or  a  friend,  or  the  fweeteft  created  enjoy- 
ment ?~  The  im.proving  your  reafon  into  faith  is  fet- 
ting  the  difordered  eye  of  the  mind  right,  that  it  may 
be  able  to  fee  this  objeft  ;  and  when  once  you  viewed 
it  with  this  eye  of  reafon  reftored  and  improved,  hov/ 
did  the  precious  ftone  fparkle  before  you,  and  charm 
you  with  its  brilliancy  and  excellence  ^  Chrift  is  one 
of  thofe  things  unfeen  and  hoped  for,  of  which  St. 
Paul  fays,  Faith  is  the  fubjiance  and  evidence,  Heb.  xi.  i» 

B  b  b  Faith 


37 o  Chriji precious  to  Serm.  14. 

Faith  gives  Chrift  a  prefeiit  fubfiftence  in  the 
mind,  not  as  a  majeftic  phantom,  but  as  the  moft 
glorious  and  important  reality,  and  this  faith  is  a  clear 
afFefting  demonftration,  or  convitftion,  of  his  exift- 
ence,  and  of  his  being  in  reality  what  his  word  repre- 
fents  him.  It  is  by  luch  a  faith,  that  is,  under  its  ha- 
bitual influence,  that  the  believer  lives;  and  hence, 
while  he  lives,  Jefus  is  ftill  precious  to  him. 

2.  None  but  believers  are  properly  fenfible  of  their 
need  of  Chrift.  They  are  deeply  fenfible  of  their  ig- 
norance and  the  diforder  of  their  underftanding,  and 
therefore  they  are  fenfible  of  their  want  of  both  the 
external  and  internal  inftrudlions  of  this  divine  Pro- 
phet. But  as  to  others,  they  are  puffed  up  with  in- 
telleftual  pride,  and  apprehend  themfelves  in  very  lit- 
tle need  of  religious  inftruftions ;  and  therefore  they 
think  but  very  fii2;htly  of  him.  Believers  feel  them- 
felves guilty,  deftitute  of  all  righteoufnefs,  and  inca- 
pable of  making  atonement  for  their  fins,  or  recom- 
mending themfelves  to  God,  and  therefore  the  fatis- 
fadion  and  righteoufnefs  of  Jefus  Chrift  are  moft  pre- 
cious to  them,  and  they  rejoice  in  him  as  their  all- 
prevailing  Intercefibr.  But  as  to  the  unbelieving 
crov/d,  they  have  no  fuch  mortifying  thoughts  of  them- 
felves :  they  have  fo  many  excufes  to  make  for  their 
iins,  that  they  bring  down  their  guilt  to  a  very  trifling 
thing,  hardly  worthy  of  divine  refentment  •,  and  they 
magnify  their  good  works  to  fuch  an  height,  that  they 
imagine  they  will  nearly  balance  their  bad,  and  pro- 
cure them  fome  favour  at  leaft  from  God,  and  there- 
fore they  muft  look  upon  this  High  Prieft  as  needlefs. 
Thev  alfo  love  to  be  free  from  the  reflraints  of  reli- 
gion, and  to  have  the  com.mand  of  themfelves.  They 
would  ufuro  the  oower  of  felf-s^overnrnent,  and  make 
their  own  pleafure  their  rule;  and  therefore  the  Lord 
Jefus  Chrift,  as  a  King,  is  fo  far  from  being  precious, 
that  he  is  very  unacceptable  to  fuch  obftinate,  head- 
ftrong  rebels,  I'hey  choofe  to  have  no  lawgiver,  but 
their  ov/n  wills  ;  and  therefore  they  trample  upon  his 

laws. 


Serm.  14.  all  true  Believers,  375 

laws,  and,  as  it  were,  form  infurreflions  againft  his 
government.  But  the  poor  believer,  fenfible  of  his 
incapacity  for  feh'-'-government,  loves  to  be  under  di- 
reftion,  and  delights  to  feel  the  dependent,  fubmiffive, 
pliant  fpirit  of  a  fubjed.  He  counts  it  a  mercy  not 
to  have  the  management  of  himfelf,  and  feels  his  need 
of  this  mediatorial  King  to  rule  him.  He  hates  the 
rebel  within,  hates  every  infurreftion  of  fin,  and  longs 
to  have  it  entirely  fubdued,  and  every  thought,  every 
motion  of  his  foul,  brought  into  captivity  to  the  obe- 
dience of  Chrift ;  and  therefore  he  feels  the  need  of 
his  royal  power  to  make  an  entire  conqueft  of  his 
hoftile  fpirit.  His  commands  are  not  uncafy  inipofi- 
tions,  but  moft  acceptable  and  friendly  directions  to 
him  ;  and  the  prohibitions  of  his  law  are  not  painful 
reftraints,  but  a  kind  of  privileges  In  his  efteem.  The 
language  of  his  heart  is,  "  Precious  Jefus !  be  thou 
my  King.  I  love  to  live  in  humble  fubje-ffcion  to  thee. 
I  would  voluntarily  fubmit  myfelf  to  thy  controul  and 
diredlion.  Thy  will,  not  mine,  he  done  !  O  fubdue 
€very  rebellious  principle  v/ithin,  and  make  me  all  re- 
fignation  and  cheerful  obedience  to  thee  !"  To  fucli 
a  foul  it  is  no  wonder  Jefus  fhould  be  exceeding  pre- 
cious :  but  O  how  different  is  this  fpirit  from  that 
which  generally  prevails  in  the  world  1  Let  me  add 
but  one  reafon  more  why  Jefas  is  precious  to  believers, 
and  them  only,  namely, 

3.  None  but  believers  have  known  by  experience 
how  precious  he  is.  They,  and  only  they,  can  re- 
fied  upon  the  glorious  views  of  him,  which  them- 
felves  have  had,  to  captivate  their  hearts  forever  to 
him.  They,  and  only  they,  have  known  what  it  is 
to  feel  a  bleeding  heart  healed  by  his  gentle  hand  j 
and  a  clamorous  anguifhing  confcience  pacified  by  his 
atoning  blood.  They,  and  only  they,  knov/  by  ex- 
perience how  fweet  it  is  to  feel  his  love  fned  abroad 
in  their  hearts,  to  feel  an  heart,  ravifhed  with  his 
glory,  pant,  and  long,  and  breatiie  after  liim,  and  ex- 
erting the  various:,a6l3  of  faith,  defire,  joy,  and  hope 
i  towards 


372  Chrijl precious  to  Serm.  14^ 

towards  him.  They,  and  only  they,  knov*?  by  expe- 
rience how  pleafant  it  is  to  converfe  with  him  in  his 
ordinances,  and  to  fpend  an  hour  of  devotion  in  fome 
retirement,  as  it  were,  in  his  com.pany.  They,  and 
only  they,  have  experienced  the  exertions  oi  his  royal 
power,  conquering  their  mightieft  fins,  and  fweetly 
fubduing  them  to  himfelf.  Thefe  are,  in  fome  mea- 
fure,  matters  of  experience  with  every  true  believer, 
and  therefore  it  is  no  wonder  Jefus  fhould  be  precious 
to  them.  But  as  to  the  unbelieving  multitude,  poor 
creatures !  they  are  entire  ftrangers  to  thefe  things. 
They  may  have  fome  fuperficial  notions  o^  them  float- 
ing in  their  heads,  but  they  have  never  felt  them  in 
their  hearts,  and  therefore  the  infinitely  precious  Lord 
Jefus  is  a  v^'orthleis,  infignincant  Being  to  them  :  and 
thus,  alas !  it  will  be  with  the  unhappy  creatures, 
until  experience  becomes  their  teacher  ;  until  they  tafte 
for  themfelves  that  the  Lord  is  gracious,   i  Peter  ii.  3. 

There  is  an  intereiling  queftion,  which,  I  doubt 
not,  has  rifen  in  the  minds  of  fuch  of  you  as  have 
heard  what  has  been  faid  with  a  particular  application 
to  yourfelves,  and  keeps  you  in  a  painful  fufpence  : 
with  an  anfwer  to  which  I  fliali  conclude;  "  Am  I 
indeed  a  true  believer  ^.  may  fome  of  you  fay  ;  and  is 
Chrifl:  precious  to  me  ?  My  fatisfadion  in  this  fvv'eet 
fubjecfn  is  vaftly  abated,  till  this  queftion  is  folved. 
Sometimes,  1  humbly  think,  the  evidence  is  in  my 
tavour,  and  I  begin  to  hope  that  he  is  indeed  precious 
to  my  foul ;  but  alas  !  my  love  for  him  foon  languifhes, 
and  then  my  doubts  and  fears  return,  and  I  know  not 
what  to  do,  nor  what  to  think  of  mylelf."  Do  not 
fome  of  you,  ray  brethren,  long  to  have  this  perplex- 
ing cafe  cleared  up  ^  O  what  would  you  not  give,  if 
you  mio;ht  return  home  this  evening  fully  fatJsfed  in 
this  point  ?  Well,  I  would  willingly  help  you,  for 
experience  has  taught  me  to  fympathize  with  you  un- 
der tjiis  difiiculty.  O  my  heart !  how  often  haft  thou 
been  fuipicious  of  thyfelf  in  this  refpedl  .^  The  rea- 
^ieft  way  I  can  now  t:ak,e  to  clear  rp  the  matter  is  to 

anfwer 


Serm.  14;  all  true  Believers.  373 

anfwer  another  queftion,  naturally  refulting  from  my 
fubjefl ;  and  that  is,  "  How  does  that  high  erteem 
which  a  believer  has  for  Jefus  Chrift  difcover  itfelf  ? 
Or  how  does  he  fhew  that  Chrift  is  indeed  precious  to 
him  ?"  I  anfwer,  he  fhews  it  in  various  ways,  parti- 
cularly by  his  affedtionate  thoughts  of  him,  which 
often  rife  in  his  mind,  and  always  find  welcome  there. 
He  difcovers  that  Jefus  is  precious  to  him  by  hating 
and  refifting  whatever  is  difpleafing  to  him,  and  by 
parting  with  every  thing  that  comes  in  competition 
with  him.  He  will  let  all  go  rather  than  part  with 
Chrift.  Honour,  reputation,  eafe,  riches,  pleafure, 
and  even  life  itfelf,  are  nothing  to  him  in  coinparifon 
of  Chrift,  and  he  will  run  the  rifque  of  all ;  nay,  will 
adually  lofe  all,  if  he  may  but  v/in  Chrift.  He  difco- 
vers this  high  efteem  for  him  by  the  pleafure  he  takes 
in  feeling  his  heart  fuitably  affecfted  towards  him,  and 
by  his  uneafinefs  when  it  is  otherv/ife.  O  !  when  he 
can  love  Jefus,  when  his  thoughts  afFedlionately  ckfp 
around  him,  and  when  he  has  an  heart  to  ferve  him, 
then  he  is  happy,  his  foul  is  well,  and  he  is  lively  and 
cheerful.  But  alas  !  when  it  is  otherwife  with  him, 
when  his  love  languifties,  when  his  heart  hardens, 
Avhen  it  becomes  out  of  order  for  his  fervice,  then  he 
grows  uneafy  ar^  difcontented,  and  cannot  be  at  reft. 
When  Jefus  favours  him  with  his  gracious  prefence, 
and  revives  him  with  his  influence,  how  does  he  re- 
joice !  But  when  his  beloved  withdraws  himfelf  and 
is  gone,  how  does  he  lament  his  abfence,  and  long 
for  his  return!  He  weeps  and  cries  like  a  bereaved, 
deferted  orphan,  and  moans  like  a  loving  turtle  in  the 
abfence  of  its  mate.  Becaufe  Chrift  is  fo  precious  to 
him,  he  cannot  bear  the  thought  of  parting  with  him, 
and  the  leaft  jealoufy  of  his  love  pierces  his  very  heart. 
Becaufe  he  loves  him  he  longs  for  the  full  enjoyment 
of  him,  and  is  raviftied  with  the  profpecfl  of  it..  Be- 
caufe Chrift  is  precious  to  him,  his  interefts  are  fo  too, 
and  he  longs  to  fee  his  kingdom  flourifti,  and  all  men 
ilourifti,  and  all  men  fired  with  his  love.     Becaufe  Ke 

loves 


374       Chrifi  precious  to  all  true  Believers.     Serm.  14; 

loves  him,  he  loves  his  ordinances  ;  loves  to  hear,  be- 
caufe  it  is  the  word  of  Jefus  •,  loves  to  pray,  becaufe 
it  is  maintaining  intercourfe  with  Jefus  ;  loves  to  fit 
at  his  table,  becaufe  it  is  a  memorial  of  Jefus ;  and 
loves  his  people,  becaufe  they  love  Jefus.  Whatever 
has  a  relation  to  his  precious  Saviour  is  for  that  reafon 
precious  to  him  -,  and  when  he  feels  any  thing  of  a 
contrary  difpofition,  alas !  it  grieves  him,  and  makes 
him  abhor  himfelf.  Thefe  things  are  fuflicient  to  fhew 
that  the  Lord  Jefus  has  his  heart,  and  is  indeed  pre- 
cious to  him  ;  and  is  not  this  the  very  pi6lure  of  fome 
trembling  doubting  fouls  among  you  ?  If  it  be,  take 
courage.  After  fo  many  vain  fearches,  you  have  at 
length  difcovered  the  welcome  iccrct,  that  Chrift  is 
indeed  precious  to  you:  and  if  fo,  you  may  be  fure 
that  you  are  precious  to  him.  You  Jljall  be  tnine^  faith 
the  Lord  J  in  the  day  that  I  make  up  my  jewels.  Mai.  iii. 
17.  If  you  are  now  fatisfied,  after  thorough  trial  of 
the  cafe,  retain  your  hope,  and  let  not  every  difcou- 
raging  appearance  renew  your  jealoufies  again  :  labour 
to  be  fteady  and  firm  ChriftianSj  and  do  not  ftagger 
through  unbelief. 

But  alas  1   I   fear  that  many  of  you  know  nothing 
experimentally  of  the  exercifes  of  a  believing  heart, 
which  I  have  been  defcribing,  and  confequently  that 
Chrift  is  not  precious  to  you.     If  this  is  the  cafe,  you 
may  be  fure  indeed  you  are  hateful  to  him.     He  is 
angry  with  the  wicked  every  day.     "  Thofe  that  ho- 
nour him  he  will  honour;  but  they  that  defpife  him 
fhall  be  lightly  efteemed."   i  Sam.  ii.  30.     And  what 
will  you  do  if  Chrift  iTiould  become  your  enemy  and 
fight  againft  you  ?     If  this  precious  ftone  fhould  be- 
come a  ftone  of  ftumbling  and  a  rock  of  offence  to 
you,  over  which  you  will  fall  into  ruin,  O  how  dread- 
ful muft  the  fall  be  !      What  muft  you  exped  but  to 
lie  down  in  unutterable  and  everlafting  forrow  ! 


SERMON 


SERMON     XV. 

The  Danger  of  Lukewarmnefs  in  Religion^ 


Revelation  iii.  15,  16.  I  know  thy  ivorks^  that  thou 
art  neither  cold  nor  hot :  I  would  thou  wert  cold  or 
hot.  So  then,  becaufe  thou  art  lukewarm,  and  neither 
cold  nor  hot,  I  will  fpue  thee  out  of  my  mouth. 

THE  foul  of  man  is  endowed  v/ith  fach  a6live 
powers,  that  it  cannot  be  idle;  and,  if  we  look 
round  the  world,  we  fee  it  all  alive  and  bufy  in  feme 
purfuit  or  other.  What  vigorous  aftion,  what  labour 
and  toil,  what  hurry,  noife,  and  commotion  about  the 
neceflaries  of  life,  about  riches  and  honours!  Here 
men  are  in  earnePc :  here  there  is  no  diflimulation,  no 
indifferency  about  the  event.  They  fincerely  defire, 
and  eagerly  ftrive  for  thefe  tranfient  delights,  or  vain 
embellifhments  of  a  moral  life. 

And  may  we  infer  farther,  that  creatures,  thus 
formed  for  a(5lion,  and  thus  laborious  and  unwearied 
in  thefe  inferior  purfuits,  are  proportionably  vigorous 
and  in  earneil  in  matters  of  infinitely  greater  impor- 
tance ?  May  we  conclude,  that  they  proportion  their 
labour  and  adivity  to  the  nature  of  things,  and  that 
they  are  mofk  in  earneft  where  they  are  moft  concern- 
ed ?  A  ftranger  to  our  world,  that  could  conclude 
nothing  concerning  the  conduft  of  mankind  but  fi-om 
the  generous  prefumptions  of  his  own  charitable  heart, 
might  perfuade  himfelf  that  this  is  the  cafe.  But  one 
that  has  been  but  a  little  while  converfant  with  them, 
and  taken  the  leaft  notice  of  their  temper  and  prac- 
tice with  regrard  to  that  mofl:  intereftinCT  thing:,  Reli- 
gion,  mufi:  know  it  is  quite  otherwife.  For  look  round 
you,  and  what  do  you  fee?     Here  and  there  indeed 

vou 


37*5  The  Danger  of  Serm.  15/ 

you  may  fee  a  few  uiifafliionable  creatures,  who  adt  as 
if  they  looked  upon  ri-ligion  to  be  the  moft  interefting 
concern  •,  and  who  fcem  determined,  let  others  do  as 
they  will,  to  make  fure  of  falvation,  whatever  becomes 
of  them  in  other  refpedls  :  but  as  to  the  generality, 
thcv  are  very  indifferent  about  it.  They  will  not  in- 
deed renounce  all  religion  entirely  •,  they  will  make 
fome  little  profefiion  of  the  religion  that  happens  to 
be  nioR-  modifli  and  reputable  in  their  country,  and 
they  will  conform  to  fome  of  its  inftitutions  •,  but  it 
is  a  jnatter  of  indiffercncy  with  them,  and  they  are 
but  little  concerned  about  it  •,  or,  in  the  language  of 
my  text,  they  are  lukewarm,,  and  neither  cold  nor  hot. 

This  threatening,  /  ivill  fpue  thee  out  of  my  mouth,, 
ih.is  been  long  ago  executed  with  a  dreadful  feverity 
upon  the  Laodicean  church  •,  and  it  is  now  fucceeded 
by  a  mongrel  race  of  Pagans  and  Mahometans  •■,  and 
the  name  of  Chrift  is  not  heard  among  them.  But, 
though  this  church  has  been  demolifhed  for  fo  many 
hundreds  of  years,  that  lukewarmnefs  of  fpirit  in  re- 
ligion which  brought  this  judgment  upon  them,  ftill 
lives,  and  poffefi'es  the  chriftians  of  our  age:  it  may 
therefore  be  expedient  for  us  to  confider  Chrift's 
friendly  warning  to  them,  that  we  may  efcape  their 
doom. 

'Y\\z  cpifllcs  to  the  fevcn  churches  in  Afia  are  intro- 
duced with  this  folcmn  and  ftriking  prelace,  "  I  know 
thy  works  :"  that  is  to  fay,  your  charader  is  drawn 
by  one  that  thoroughly  ktiows  you  ;  one  who  infpecfls 
all  your  conducil,  and  takes  notice  ot  you  when  you 
take  no  notice  of  yourfelves*,  one  that  cannot  be  im- 
pofcd  upon  by  an  empty  profeffion  and  artifice,  but 
fcarches  the  heart  and  the  reins.  O  that  tliis  truth 
were  deeply  imprefl'ed  upon  our  hearts-,  for  furely  we 
could  not  trifle  and  offend  while  fenfible  that  we  are 
under  the  eye  of  our  Judge ! 

/  know  thy  works,  fays  he  to  the  Laodicean  church, 
that  thou  art  neither  cold  nor  hot.  This  church  was  in 
a  very  bad  condition,  and  Chrift  reproves  her  with  the 

greateft 


JStrm.  15.         Luktwarmnsfs  in  Riligion.  ,    . 

gre?.teft  feveritv,*  and  yet  we  do  not  find  her  charged 
with  the  praftice  or  toleration  of  any  grofs  immora- 
lities, as  fome  of  the  other  churches  were.  She  is 
not  cenfurcd  for  indulging  fornication  among  her 
members,  or  communicating  wrth  idolaters  in  eating 
thinG;s  facrificcd  to  idols,  like  fome  of  the  reft.  She 
was  free  fron)  the  infefbion  of  the  Nicolaitans,  which 
had  fprsad  among  thr:m.  \Vh;it  then  is  her  charge? 
It  is  a  fubrle,  latent  wickedncfs,  that  has  no  rtiocking 
appearance,  that  makes  no  grofs  blcmifh  in  the  out- 
ward charafter  of  a  profcflbr  in  the  view  of  otheis, 
and  may  efcape  his  own  notice-,  it  i?.  Thou  art  luke- 
warm^ and  neither  cold  nor  hot :  as  if  our  Lord  had 
fkid,  Thou  doft  not  entirely  renounce  and  openly  dif- 
regard  the  chriftian  religion,  and  thou  doft  not  make 
it  a  ferious  bufinefs,  and  mind  it  as  thy  grand  concern. 
Thou  haft  a  form  of  godlinefs,  but  denieft  the  power. 
All  thy  religion  is  a  dull,  languid  thing,  :i  mere  indit- 
ferency  ;  thine  heart  is  not  in  it  \  it  is  not  animated 
with  the  fervour  of  thy  fpirit.  Thou  haft  neither  the 
coldnefs  of  the  profligate  finner,  nor  the  facrcd  fire 
and  life  of  the  true  chriftian  ;  but  thou  keepeft  in  a 
fort  of  medium  between  them.  In  fome  things  thou 
refembleft  the  one,  in  other  things  the  other  -,  as  luke- 
warmnefs  partakes  of  the  nature  both  of  heat  and 
cold. 

Now  fuch  a  lukewarmnefs  is  an  eternal  folccifm  in 
religion :  it  is  the  moft  abfurd  and  inconfiftent  thing 
imaginable-,  more  (o  than  avowed  impictv,  or  a  pro- 
fefTcd  reje(^ion  of  ail  religion  :  therefore,  fays  Chrift, 
/  would  thou  ivert  cold  or  hot^ — /.  e.  "  You  might  be 
any  thing  more  confiftcntly  than  what  you  are.  \^ 
you  looked  upon  religion  as  a  cheat,  and  openly  re- 
jected the  profeflion  of  it,  it  would  not  be  ftrangethat 
you  ftiould  be  carelefs  about  it,  and  difregard  it  in 
C  c  c  practice. 

•  S  ic  wjs  as  ;3o:hicrr.c  to  h.in  as  iukcvvarin  \v.:trr  to  the  ftomach» 
and  he  cliaraflcrifes  h.r  as  "  wrctchcJ,  anJ  cilcrabic,  and  pcor, 
"  and  blind,  and  naked."  What  condititm  c:'.n  be  more  deplorable 
and  dangerous  ? 


^yS  'Th  Danger  of  Serm.  15. 

praftice.  But  to  own  it  true,  and  make  a  profeflion 
of  it,  and  yet  be  lukewarm  and  indifferent  about  it, 
this  is  the  moft  abfurd  condud:  that  can  be  conceived  ; 
for,  if  it  be  true,  it  is  certainly  the  moft  important 
and  interefting  truth  in  all  the  world,  and  requires  the 
utmoft  exertion  of  all  your  powers." 

When  Chrift  exprefles  his  abhorrence  of  lukewarm- 
nefs  in  tlic  form  of  a  wifh,  /  would  thou  wert  cold  or 
hot^  we  are  not  to  fuppofe  his  meaning  to  be,  that  cold- 
nefs  or  fervour  in  religion  are  equally  acceptable,  or 
that  coldnefs  is  at  all  acceptable  to  him. ;  for  reafon  and 
revelation  concur  to  afiure  us,  that  the  open  rejecftion 
and  avowed  contempt  of  rdigionisan  aggravated  wick- 
ednefs,  as  well  as  an  hypocritical  profeffion.  But  our 
Lord's  defign  is  to  exprefs  in  the  ftrongeft  manner 
poPuble,  how  odious  and  abominable  their  lukewarm- 
nefs  was  to  him  ;  as  if  he  fhould  fay,  "  Your  ftate  is 
fo  bad,  that  you  cannot  change  for  the  worfe;  I  would 
rather  you  were  any  thing  than  what  you  are."  You 
are  ready  to  obierve,  that  the  lukewarm  profefibr  is 
in  reality  wicked  and  corrupt  at  heart,  a  flave  to  fin, 
and  an  enemy  to  God,  as  well  as  the  avowed  finner  -, 
and  therefore  they  are  both  hateful  in  the  fight  of  God, 
and  both  in  a  {late  of  condemnation.  But  there  are 
feme  aggravations  peculiar  to  the  lukewarm  profefibr 
that  render  him  peculiarly  odious  \  as,  i.  He  adds  the 
fin  of  an  hypocritical  profefiicn  to  his  other  fins.  The 
wickednefs  of  real  irreligion,  and  the  Vv'ickednefs  of 
falfely  pretending  to  be  religious,  meet  and  center  in 
him  at  once.  2.  To  all  this  he  adds  the  guilt  of  pre- 
fumption,  pride,  and  felf-flattery,  imagining  he  is  in 
a  fafe  ftate  and  in  favour  vvith  God  \  whereas  he  that 
makes  no  pretenfions  to  religion,  has  no  fuch  um.brage 
for  this  conceit  and  delafion.  Thus  the  miferable  Lao- 
diceans  ''  thought  themfelves  rich,  and  increafed  in 
goods,  and  in  need  of  nothing."  5.  Hence  it  fol- 
Jov/s,  that  the  lukewarm  profeflbr  is  in  the  moft  dan- 
.rerous  condition,  as  he  is  not  liable  to  convidion,  nor 
{0  likely  to  be  brought  to  repentance.  Thus  publicans 

ar/i 


Serm.  15.         Lukewarmnefs  in  Religion.  379 

and  harlots  received  the  gofpel  more  readily  than  the 
felf-righteous  Pharifees.  4.  The  honour  of  God  and 
religion  is  more  injured  by  the  negligent,  unconfcien- 
tious  behaviour  of  thefe  Laodiceans,  than  by  the  vices 
of  thofe  who  make  no  pretenfions  to  religion  j  Vvith 
whom  therefore  its  honour  has  no  connevStion.  On 
thefe  accounts  you  fee  lukewarmnefs  is  more  aggra- 
vatedly  finful  and  dangerous  than  entire  coldnsfs  about 
religion. 

So  then,  fays  Chrift,  Becaufe  thou  art  liikeivarm^  and 
neither  cold  nor  hot,  I  will  fpue  thee  out  of  my  mouth : 
this  is  their  doom;  as  if  he  fhould  fay,  "  As  luke- 
warm water  is  more  difagreeable  to  the  ftomach  than 
either  cold  or  hot,  fo  you,  of  all  others,  are  the  mod 
abominable  to  me.  I  am  quite  fick  of  fuch  prGfeffors, 
and  I  will  caft  them  out  of  my  church,  and  rcjed  them 
for  ever." 

■  My  prefent  defign  is  to  expofe  the  peculiar  abfur- 
dity  and  wickednefs  of  lukewarmnefs  or  indifferency 
in  religion  ;  a  difeafe  that  has  fpread  its  deadly  conta- 
gion far  and  v/ide  among  us,  and  calls  for  a  fpeedy 
cure.  And  let  me  previoufly  obferve  to  you,  that,,  if 
I  do  not  offer  you  fufticient  arguments  to  convince 
your  own  reafon  of  the  abfurdity  and  wickednefs  of 
fuch  a  temper,  then  you  may  ftill  indulge  it;  but  that 
if  my  arguments  are  fufScient,  then  fnake  off  youi- 
floth,  and  be  fervent  infpirit;  and  if  you  negledt  your 
duty,  be  it  at  your  peril. 

In  illuftrating  this  point  I  fhall  proceed  upon  this 
plain  principle,  'That  Religion  is,  of  all  things,  the  mofi 
important  in  itfelf,  and  the  mofi  interefiing  to  us.  This 
we  cannot  deny,  without  openly  pronouncing  it  an 
impofture.  If  there  be  a  God,  .is  religion  teaches  us, 
he  is  the  moft  glorious,  the  moft  venerable,  and  the 
moft  lovely  Being ;  and  nothing  can  be  fo  important 
to  us  as  his  favour,  and  nothing  fo  terrible  as  his  dif- 
pleafure.  If  he  be  our  Maker,  our  Benefadlor,  our 
Lawgiver  and  Judge,  it  muft  be  our  greateft  concern 
%q  ferve  him  with  all  our  might,     l^  Jefus  Chrift  be 

fuch 


D* 


380  'The  Danger  of  Serrn.  i 

fuch  a  Saviour  as  our  religion  reprefents,  apxd  we  pro- 
fefs  to  believe,  he  demands  our  warmeft  love  and  mofk 
lively  Services.  If  eternity,  if  heaven  and  hell,  and 
the  final  judgment,  are  realities,  they  are  certainly  the 
rnofr  augufl:,  the  moft  awful,  important,  and  intereft- 
ing  realities  -,  and,  in  comparifon  of  them,  the  mofl 
weighty  concerns  of  the  prefent  life  are  but  trifles, 
dreams,  and  fhadows.  If  prayer  and  other  religious 
exercifes  are  our  duty,  certainly  they  require  ail  the 
vigour  of  our  fouls ;  and  nothing  can  be  more  abfurd 
or  incongruous  than  to  perform  them  in  a  languid, 
fpiritiefs  manner,  as  if  we  knew  not  what  we  were 
about.  If  there  be  any  I'fe  within  us,  thefe  are  pro- 
per objefls  to  call  it  forth:  if  our  fouls  are  endowed 
v/ith  adlive  powers,  here  are  objefts  that  demand  their 
utmoft  exertion.  Here  v/e  can  never  be  fo  much  in 
earneil  as  the  cafe  requires.  Trifle  about  any  thing, 
but  O  do  not  trifie  here !  Be  carelefs  and  indifferent 
about  crowns  and  kingdoms,  about  health,  life,  and 
all  the  world,  but  O  be  not  carelefs  and  indifferent 
about  fuch  immenfe  concerns  as  thefe  ! 

But  to  be  more  particular  :  let  us  take  a  view  of  a 
lukewarm  temper  in  various  attitudes,  or  with  refpect 
to  feveral  objeds,  particularly  towards  God— towards 
Jefus  Chrift — a  future  ftate  of  happinefs  or  mifery — 
and  in  the  duties  of  religion  ;  and  in  each  of  thefe  views 
viQ  cannot  but  be  fhocked  at  fo  monftrous  a  temper, 
efpecially  if  we  confidcr  our  difficulties  and  dangers  in 
a  religious  life,  and  the  eagernefs  and  adivity  of  man- 
kind in  inferior  purfuits. 

I.  Conlider  who  and  Vv'hat  God  is.  He  is  the  ori- 
ginal uncieated  beauty,  the  fum  total  of  ail  natural 
and  moral  perfedions,  the  origin  of  all  the  excellen- 
cies that  are  fcattercd  through  this  glorious  univerfe  j 
he  is  the  fupreme  good,  and  llie  only  proper  portion 
for  our  immortal  fpirits.  He  alfo  fuftains  the  moft: 
majeftic  and  endearing:  relations  10  us  -,  our  Father, 
our  Preferver  and  Benefactor,  cur  Lavv'giver,  and  our 
Judge.  And  is  fuch  a  Being  to  be  put  off  with  heart-: 
■■■      '  '       ~  lefs- 


Sefm.  15.         Lukewarmnefs  in  Religion.  '^^i 

lefs,  lukewarm  fervices  ?  What  can  be  more  abfurd 
or  impious  than  to  difhonour  fupreme  excellency  and 
beauty  with  a  languid  love  and  efteem  -,  to  trifle  in  the 
prefence  of  the  moft  venerable  Majefty  •,  treat  the  beft 
of  Beings  with  indifferency  ;  to  be  carelefs  about  our 
duty  to  fuch  a  Father;  to  return  fuch  a  Benefaftor 
only  infipid  complimental  expreffions  of  gratitude  ;  to 
be  dull  and  fpiritlefs  in  obedience  to  fuch  a  Lavv'giver ; 
and  to  be  indifferent  about  the  favour  or  difpleafure  of 
fuch  a  Judge  !  I  appeal  to  Heaven  and  earth,  if  this 
be  not  the  moil  fhocking  condu6l  imaginable.  Does 
not  your  reafon  pronounce  it  horrid  and  moft  daringly 
wicked  ?  And  yet  thus  is  the  great  and  bleffed  God 
treated  by  the  generality  of  mankind.  It  is  moft  af- 
tonifhing  that  he  fhould  bear  with  fuch  treatment  fo 
long,  and  that  mankind  themfelves  are  not  fhocked  at 
it:  but  fuch  the  cafe  really  is.  And  are  there  not  fome 
lukewarm  I,aodiceans  in  this  affembly  ^  Jefus  knovv's 
your  works,  that  you  are  neither  cold  nor  hot ;  and  it 
is  fit  you  fxiould  alfo  know  them.  May  you  not  be 
convinced,  upon  a  little  inquiry,  that  your  hearts  are 
habitually  indifferent  towards  God  ?  You  may  indeed 
entertain  a  fpeculative  efteem  or  a  good  opinion  of  him, 
but  are  your  fouls  alive  tov/ards  him  ?  Do  they  burn 
with  his  love  '^.  And  are  you  fervent  in  fpirit  v/hen 
you  are  ferving  him  ?  Some  of  you,  I  hope,  amid 
all  your  infirmities,  can  give  comfortable  anfwers  to 
thefe  inquiries.  But  alas  !  how  few  !  But  yet  as  to 
fuch  of  you  as  are  lukewarm,  and  neither  cold  nor  hot, 
you  are  the  moft  abominable  creatures  upon  earth  to 
ail  holy  God. — -Be  zealous^  be  v/arm,  therefore,  and  re- 
pent, (ver.  19.) 

2.  Is  lukev/armnefs  a  proper  temper  towards  Jefus 
Chrift.^  Is  this  a  fuitable  return  for  that  love  which 
brought  him  down  from  his  native  paradife  into  our 
wretched  world  ^  That  love  which  kept  his  mind  for 
thirty-three  painful  and  tedious  years  intent  upon  this 
one  objedt,  the  falvation  of  ftnners  ^  That  love  which 
ri?ndered   him    cheerfully  patient  of  the   fiiame,  the 

curfe. 


/ 


382  The  Danger  of  Serm.  15. 

curfe,  the  tortures  of  crucifixion,  Jind  all  the  agonieg 
of  the  moffc  painful  death  ?     That  love  which  makes 
him  the  finner's  friend  ftill  in  the  courts  of  Heaven, 
where  he  appears  as  our  prevailing  Advocate  and  In- 
terceffor  ?     Bleficd  Jefus  !   is  lukewarmnefs  a  proper 
return  to  thee  for  all  this  kindnefs  ?     No  -,  methinks 
devils  cannot  treat  thee  v/orfe.      My  fellow-mortals, 
my  feilow-finncrs,  who  are  the  objedts  of  all  this  love, 
can  you  put  him  oiT  with  languid  devotions  and  faint 
fervices  ?     Then  every  grateful  and  generous  paffion 
is  extinct  in  your  fouls,  and  you  are  qualified  to  ven- 
ture upon  every  form  of  ingratitude  and  bafenefs.    O 
was  Chrift  indifferent  about  your  falvation  ?     Was  his 
love  lukewarm   towards  you?     No;   your  falvation 
was  the  objedl  oi  his   moll  intenfe  application  night 
and  day  through  the  whole  courfe  of  his  life,  and  it  lay 
neareft  his  heart  in  the  agonies  of  death.     For  this  he 
had  a  baptijm  to  he  baptized  'with^  a  baptifm,  an  im- 
merfion  in  tears  and  blood-,  and  hovLi  am  I  jtraitened^ 
fays  he,  ////  it  he  accomphjljedl     For  this,  with  de/ire 
he  dejtred  to  eat  his  lafi  pajjover^  becaufe  it  introduced 
the  lafc  fcene  of  his  fufferings.     His  love  !   what  fhall 
I  fay  of  it  ?     What  language  can  defcribe  its  ftrength 
and  ardor  ?     His  lo-ve  ivas  Jlrong  as  death  *,  the  coals 
thereof  were  coals  of  fire^  which  had  a  moft  'vehement 
fame:  jnany  waters  could  not  q^uench  it^  nor  the  floods 
drown  it.  Cant.  viii.  6,  7.    Never  did  a  tender  mother 
love  her  fucking  child  with  a  love  equal  to  his.  Never 
was  a  father  more  carneft  to  refcue  an  only  fon  from 
the  hands  of  a  murderer,  or  to  pluck  him  out  of  the 
fire,  than  Jefus  v/as  to  fave  perifhing  finners.     Now  to 
negled  him  after  all  \  to  forget  him  \  or  to  think  of 
him  with  indifrerency,  as  though  he  were  a  being  of 
but  little  importance,  and  we  but  little  obliged  to  him, 
what  is  all  this  but  the  moft  unnatural,  barbarous  in- 
gratitude, and  the  moft  jfhocking  v.'ickednefs .''     Do 
you  not  cxped  everlafting  happinefs  from  him  pur- 
chafed  at  the  expence  of  his  blood  ?     And  can  you 
hope  for  fuch  an  iramenfe  bleifing  from  liim  without 

feeling 


Serm.  15.         Lukewarmnefs  in  Religion.  383 

feeling  yourfelves  raoft  fenfibly  obliged  to  him  ?  Can 
you  hope  he  will  do  fo  much  for  you,  and  can  you  be 
content  to  do  nothing  for  him,  or  to  go  through  his  fer- 
vice  with  lukewarmneis  and  langour,  as  if  you  cared 
not  how  you  hurried  through  it,  or  how  little  you  had 
to  do  with  it  ?  Can  any  thing  be  more  abfurd  or  im- 
pious than  this  ?  Methinks  you  may  defy  hell  to  fhew 
a  worfe  tem.pcr.  May  not  Chrift  juflly  wifh  you  were 
either  cold  or  hot;  wilTi  you  were  any  thing,  rather 
than  thus  lukewarm  towards  him  under  a  profefiion 
of  friendfhip  ?  Alas !  my  brethren,  if  this  be  your 
habitual  temper,  inftead  of  being  faved  by  him  vou 
may  exped-  he  will  rejed:  you  with  the  moli  naufeating 
difguft  and  abhorrence.     But, 

3.  Is  lukewarmnefs  and  indifference'  a  {uitable  tem- 
per with  refpeft  to  a  future  ftate  of  happinefs  or  mi- 
fery  ?  Is  it  a  fuitable  temper  with  refped  to  an  hap- 
pinefs far  exceeding  the  utmoil:  bounds  of  our  prefent 
thoughts  and  wifncs  •,  an  happinefs  equal  to  the  largeft 
capacities  of  our  fouls  in  their  moli  improved  and 
perfected  ftate-,  an  happinefs  beyond  the  grave,  v/hen 
all  the  enjoyments  of  this  tranfitory  life  have  taken  an 
eternal  flight  from  us,  and  leave  us  hungry  and  famish- 
ing for  ever,  if  thele  be  ou'r  only  portion  \  an  happi- 
nefs that  will  laft  as  long  as  our  immortal  fpirits,  and 
never  fade  or  fly  from  us  ?  Or  are  lukewarmnef?  and 
indifferency  a  fuitable  temper  with  ref^^ft  to  a  mifery 
beyond  expreffion,  beyond  conception  dreadful ;  a 
mifery  inflifted  by  a  God  of  almighty  power  and  in- 
exorable juftice  upon  a  number  of  obftinate,  incorrigi- 
ble rebels  for  numberlefs,  v^ilful,  and  daring  provo- 
cations, inflidled  on  purpofe  to  fhew  his  wrath  and 
make  his  power  known ;  a  mifery  proceeding  from 
the  united  fury  of  divine  indignation,  of  turbulent 
pafiions,  of  a  guilty  confcience,  of  malicious,  torment- 
ing devils  ',  a  mifery  (who  can  bear  \\y>  under  the  hor- 
ror of  the  thought !)  that  fhall  lad  as  long  as  the  eterr- 
jial  God  fhall  live  to  inflid  it  -,  as  long  as  iin  fliall  con- 
tinue evil  to  defervc  it-,  as  long  a5  «in  immortal  fpirit 

lliall 


■  o* 


384  fhe  Banger  of  Serm.  i_ 

ftiall  endure  to  bear  it ;  a  mifery  that  fhall  never  be  mi- 
tigated, never  intermitted,  never,  never,  never  fee  an 
end  ?  And  remember,  that  a  ftate  of  happinefs  or 
mifery  is  not  far  remote  from  us,  but  near  us,  juft  be- 
fore us;  the  next  year,  the  next  hour,  or  the  next 
moment,  we  may  enter  into  it ;  is  a  rtate  for  which 
we  are  now  candidates,  now  upon  trial;  now  our  eter- 
nal all  lies  at  ftake:  and,  O  firs,  does  an  inadlive,, 
carelefs  pofture  become  us  in  fuch  a  fituation  ?  Is  a 
ftate  of  fuch  happinefs,  or  fuch  mifei^y ;  is  fuch  a  ftate 
juft — juft  before  iis,  a  matter  of  indifferency  to  us? 
O  can  you  be  lukev/arm  about  fuch  matters?  Was 
ever  fuch  prodigious  ftupidity  feen  under  the  canopy 
of  heaven,  or  even  in  the  regions  of  hell,  which 
abound  with  monftrous  and  horrid  difpofitions  ?  No  ; 
the  hardieft  ghoft  below  cannot  make  hght  of  ihefe 
things.  Mortals  I  can  you  trifle  about  them  ?  Well 
trifle  a  little  longer,  and  your  trifiing  will  be  over  for 
ever.  You  may  be  indifferent  about  the  improving 
of  your  time ;  but  time  is  not  indifferent  v/hether  to 
pafs  by  or  not;  it  is  determined  to  continue  its  rapid 
courfe,  and  hurry  you  into  the  ocean  of  eternity,  , 
though  you  fhould  continue  fleeping  and  dreaming 
through  all  the  paflage.  Therefore  awake,  arife ;  ex- 
ert yourfelves  before  your  doom  be  unchangeably  fix- 
ed. If  you  have  any  fire  within  you,  here  let  it  burn; 
if^  you  have  any  aftive  powers,  here  let  them  be  ex- 
erted ;  here  or  no  where,  and  on  no  occafion.  Be 
adive,  be  in  earneft  where  you  fhould  be;  or  debafe 
and  fink  yourfelves  into  ftocks  and  ftones,  and  efcape 
the  curfe  of  being  reasonable  and  adlive  creatures. 
Let  the  criminal  condemned  to  die  to-morrow,  be  in- 
different about  a  reprieve  or  a  pardon  ;  let  a  drown- 
ing man  be  carelefs  about  catching  at  the  only  plank 
that  can  fiive  him  ;  but  O  do  not  you  be  carelefs  and 
indifrerent  about  eternity,  and  fuch  aniazino;  realities 
as  heaven  and  hell.  If"  vou  difbelieve  thefc  things, 
you  are  infidels ;  if  you  believe  thefe  things,  and  yet 
«ire  unaifefted  v/ith  them,  you  are  worfe  than  infidels  : 

vou. 


Serm.  15^         Lukezvarmncfs  in  Religion.  3S5 

you  are  a  fort  of  fnocking  fingukrities,  and  prodigies 
in  nature.  Not  hell  itl'elf  can  find  fi  precedent:  of  fuch 
a  condud.  The  devils  believe,  and  tremble;  you  be- 
lieve, and  trifle  with  things  v^liofe  very  name  ftrike 
folemnity  and  awe  through  heaven  and  hell.     But, 

4..  Let  us  fee  how  this  lukewarm  temper  agrees  v/ith. 
the  duties  of  religion.  And  as  I  cannot  particularizs 
them  all,  I  fliali  only  mention  an  inftance  or  two. 
View  a  lukewarm  profefibr  in  prayer  -,  he  pays  to  an 
omnifcient  God  the  compliment  of  a  bended  knee,  as 
though  he  could  impofe  upon  h.im  with  fuch  an  empty 
prete:K8.  Vv  hen  he  is  addrelling  the  Supreme  Ma- 
jefty  of  Heaven  and  earth  he  hardly  ever  recollecfls  in 
whofe  prefence  he  is,  or  v^hom  he  is  fpealcing  to,  but 
feems  as  if  he  were  worfliipping  without  an  objedt, 
or  pouring  out  empty  words  into  the  air:  perhaps 
through  the  whole  prayer  he  had  not  {o  much  as  one 
folemn,  afted:ing  thought  of  that  God  whofe  name  he 
fo  often  invoked.  Here  is  a  criminal  petitioning  fcr 
pardon  fo  carelefsiy,  that  he  fcarcely  knows  what  he  is 
about.  Here  is  a  needy  famifning  beggar  pleading 
for  fuch  immenfe  bleflings  as  everlafcing  falvation,  and 
all  the  joys  of  heaven,  fo  lukewarmly  and  thought- 
lefsly  as  if  he  cared  not  whether  his  requefts  v/ere 
granted  or  not.  He  is  an  obnoxious  offender  confef- 
ling  his  fins  with  an  heart  untouched  with  forrow ; 
woriliipping  the  living  God  with  a  dead  heart;  mak- 
ing great  requellis,  but  Jie  forgets  them  as  foon  as  he 
rifes  from  his  knees,  and  is  not  at  ail  inquifitive  what 
became  of  them,  and  whether  they  were  accepted  cr 
not.  And  can  there  be  a  more  fhocking,  impious, 
and  daring  condud;  than  this  ?  To  trifle  in  the  roya] 
prefence  would  not  be  f.ich  an  audacious  affront.  Fcr 
a  criminal  to  catch  flies  or  fport  with  a  feather  when 
pleading  v/ith  his  judge  for  his  pardon,  would  be  but. 
a  faint  fliadow  of  fuch  religious  trifling  !  What  are 
fuch  prayers  but  folemn  m^ockeries  and  difguifed  in- 
fults  ?  And  yet,  is  not  this  the  ufual  method  in  which 
many  of  you  addrefs  the  great  God !  The  words  pro- 
D  d  d  csed 


^S6  The  Danger  of  Serm.  15, 

ceed  no  farther  than  from  your  tongue:  you  do  not 
pour  them  out  from  the  bottom  of  your  hearts  -,  they 
have  no  Hfe  or  fplrit  in  them,  and  you  hardly  ever  re- 
fledt  upon  their  meaning.  And  when  you  have  talked 
away  to  God  in  this  manner,  you  will  have  it  to  pafs 
for  a  prayer.  But  furely  fuch  prayers  muft  bring  down 
a  curfe  upon  you  inftead  of  a  bleffmg:  fuch  facrifices 
mull  be  an  ahominaiion  to  the  Lord^  Prov.  xv.  8.  and 
it  is  aflonifhing  that  he  has  not  mingled  your  blood 
with  your  facrifices,  and  fent  you  from  your  knees  to 
hell,  from  thoughtlefs,  unmeaning  prayer  to  real  blaf- 
phemy  and  torture. 

The  next  inftance  I  fliall  mention  is  with  regard  to 
the  word  o{  God.  You  own  it  divine ;  you  profefs  it 
the  ftandard  of  your  religion,  and  the  moft  excellent 
book  in  the  world.  Now,  if  this  be  the  cafe,  it  is 
God  that  fpeaks  to  you  •,  it  is  God  that  fends  you  an 
epiRle  when  you  are  reading  or  hearing  his  word. 
How  impious  and  provoking  then  muft  it  be  to  neg- 
led  it,  to  let  it  He  by  you  as  an  antiquated,  ufelefs 
book,  or  to  read  it  in  a  carelefs,  fuperficial  manner, 
and  hear  it  with  an  inattentive,  wandering  mind? 
How  would  you  take  it,  if,  when  you  fpoke  to  your 
fervant  about  his  own  intered,  he  fhould  turn  away 
from  you,  and  not  regard  you  '^.  Or  if  you  fhould 
write  a  letter  to  your  fon,  and  he  fliould  not  fo  much 
as  carefully  read  it,  or  labour  to  underftand  it }  And 
do  not  fome  of  you  treat  the  facred  oracles  in  this 
manner  ?  You  make  but  little  ufe  of  your  Bible,  but 
to  teach  your  children  to  read :  Or  if  you  read,  or 
hear  its  contents  yourfelves,  are  you  not  unafFecfted 
vv'ith  them  ?  One  would  think  you  would  be  all  atten- 
tion and  reverence  to  every  word ;  you  would  drink 
it  in,  and  thirft  for  it  as  new-born  babes  for  their  mo- 
ther's milk;  you  would  feel  its  eneigy,  and  acquire 
the  charadter  of  that  happy  man  to  Vv'hom  the  God  of 
heaven  vouchfafes  to  look ;  you  would  tremble  at  his 
v,rord.  It  reveals  the  only  method  of  your  falvation  ; 
it  contains  the  only  charter  of  ail  your  bleflings.     In 

fhort. 


Serm.  15.         Lukewarmnefs in  Religion.  ^^y 

fhort,  you  have  the  neareft  perfonal  intereft  in  It,  and 
can  you  be  unconcerned  hearers  of  it  ?  I  am  fure 
your  reafon  and  confclence  muft  condemn  fuch  ftupi- 
dity  and  indifFerency  as  incongruous,  and  outrageoufly 
wicked. 

And  now  let  me  remind  you  of  the  obfervation  I 
made  upon  entering  upon  this  fubjecft,  that  if  I  fhould 
not  offer  fuflicient  matter  of  convidion,  you  might  go 
on   in  your  lukewarmnefs ;  but  if  your  own  reifon 
Ihould  be  fully  convinced  that  fuch  a  temper  is  moft 
wicked  and  unreafonable,  then  you  might  indulge  it 
at  your  peril.    What  do  you  fay  now  in  the  ilTue  ?    Ye 
modern  Laodlceans,  are  you  not  yet  ftruck  with  hor- 
ror at  the  thought  of  that  infipid,  formal,  fpiridefs  re- 
ligion you  have  hitherto  been  contented  with  ?     And 
do  you  not  fee  the  necefnty  of  following  the  advice  of 
Chriil  to  the  Laodicean  church,  I'e  zealous^  be  fervent 
for  the  future,  and  repent^  bitterly  repent  of  what  is 
paft  ?     To  urge  this  the  more,  I  have  two  confider- 
ations  in  referve,  of  no   fmall  v/eight.      i.  Confider 
the  difficulties  and  dangers  in  your  way.     O  firs,  if 
you  knew  the  difficulty  of  the  v/ork  of  your  falvation, 
and  the  great  danger  of  mifcarrying  in  it,  you  could 
not  be  fo  indifferent  about  it,  nor  could  you  flatter 
vourfelves  fuch  lano-uid  endeavours  will  ever  fucceed. 
It  is  a  labour,  a  flriving,  a  race,  a  warfare ;  fo  it  is 
called  in  the  facred  writings  *.   but  would  there  be  any 
propriety  in  thefe  expreffions  if  it  were  a  courfe  of  fjoth 
and  inactivity  ?     Confider,  you  have  ftrong  lufts  to 
be  fubdued,  an  hard  heart  to  be  broken,  a  variety  of 
graces  v/hich  you  are  entirely  deftitute  of  to  be  im- 
planted and  cherifhed,  and  that  in  an  unnatural  foil 
where  they  will  not  grow  without  careful  cultivation, 
and  that  you  have  many  temptations  to  be  encounter- 
ed and  refilled.  In  lliort,  you  muft  be  made  new  men, 
quite  other  creatures  than  you  now  are.     And  O  !  can 
this  work  be  fuccefsfuUy  performed  while  you  make 
fuch  faint  and  feeble  efforts  ?     Indeed   God  is  the 
Agent,  and  all  your  beft  endeavours  can  never  efteft 

the 


3S8  '      ^he  Danger  of  Serm.  15. 

thebleiTed  revolution  without  him.  But  his  affiftance 
is  not  to  be  expected  in  tlie  negleft,  or  carelefs  ufe  of 
means,  nor  is  jt  intended  to  encourage  idlenefs,  but 
activity  and  labour  ',  and  when  he  comes  to  work,  he 
will  foon  inflame  your  hearts,  and  put  an  end  to  your 
lukewarmnefs.  Again,  your  dangers  are  alfo  great 
and  numerous-,  you  are  in  danger  from  prefumption 
and  from  defpondency  ;  from  coldnefs,  from  luke- 
warmnefs, and  from  falfe  fires  and  enthufiaftic  heats ; 
in  danger  from  felf-righteoufncfs,  and  from  open. 
v/ickednefs,  from  your  own  corrupt  hearts,  from  this' 
enfnaring  world,  and  from  the  teniptations  of  the 
devil :  you  are  in  great  danger  of  fleeping  on  in  fecu- 
rity  without  ever  being  thoroughly  awakened  -,  or,  if 
you  fhould  be  awakened,  you  are  in  danger  of  reftirg 
fhort  of  vital  religion;  and  in  either  of  thefe  cafes 
you  are  undone  i-or  ever.  In  a  word,  dangers  crowd 
thick  around  yon  on  every  hand,  from  every  quarter  j 
dangers,  into  which  thoufands,  millions  of  your  fel- 
low-men have  fallen  and  never  recovered.  Indeed^ 
all  things  confidered,  it  is  very  doubtful  whether  ever 
you  v/ill  be  favsd  who  are  nov/  lukewarm  and  fecure  ; 
I  do  not  mean  that  your  fuccefs  is  uncertain  if  you  be 
brought  to  ufe  means  with  proper  earneftnefs  •,  but 
alas  !  it  is  awfully  uncertain  v/hether  ever  you  will  be 
brought  to  ufe  them  in  this  manner.  And,  O  firs, 
can  you  continue  fecure  and  inactive  v;hen  you  have 
fuch  difficulties  to  encounter  with  in  a  v/ork  of  abfo- 
lute  neceffity,  and  v/hen  you  are  furrounded  with  fo 
many  and  fo  great  dangers  ?  Alas  !  are  you  capable 
of  fuch  deftructive  madnefs  ?  O  that  you  knew  the 
true  ftate  of  the  cafe  !  Such  a  kno\vledge  v/ould  focn 
fire  you  with  the  greatefl:  ardor,  and  make  you  all 
life  and  vigour  in  this  important  work. 

2.  Confider  how  earne-t  and  adive  m.en  are  in  other 
purfuits.  Should  we  form  a  judgment  of  the  faculties 
of  human  nature  by  the  condud  of  the  generality  in 
religion,  we  fhould  be  apt  to  conclude  that  men  are 
mere  fnails,  and  that  they  iiave  no  adive  powers  be- 
longing 


Serm.  15.'        Lukewarmnefs  in  Religion.  389 

loncrinor  to  them.     But  view  them  about  other  aiFairs, 
and  you  find  they  are  all  life,  fire,  and  hurry.     What 
•labour  and  toil !  what  fchemes  and  contrivances  !  what 
folicitude  about  fuccefs !  v/hat  fears  of  difappointment! 
hands,  heads,  hearts,  all  bufy.     And  all  this  to  pro- 
cure thofe  enjoyments  which  at  beft  they  cannot  long 
retain,  and  which  the  next  hour  may  tear  from  them. 
To  acquire  a  nam.e  or  a  diadem,  to  obtain  riches  or 
honours,  what  hardships  are  undergone  I  what  dangers 
dared !   what  rivers  of  blood  fhed  !  how  many  millions 
of  lives  have  been  loft  !   and  how  many  more  endan- 
gered !     In  fhort,  the  world  is  all  alive,  all  in  motion 
with  bufinefs.     On  fea  and  land,  at  home  and  abroad, 
you  will  find   men  eagerly   purfuing   fome  temporal 
good.     They  grow  grey-headed,  and  die  in  the  at- 
tempt without  reaching  their  end  j  but  this  difappoint- 
ment does  not  difcourage  the  furvivors  and  flicceflbrs  i 
{liill  they  v/ill  continue,  or  renew  the  endeavour.   Now 
here  men  a<5i:  like  themfelves  •,  and  they  fhew  they  are 
alive,    and  endovv^ed  with  powers  of   great  aftivity. 
And  ihall  they  be  thus  zealous  and  laborious   in  the 
purfuit   of  earthly  vanities,  and  be  quite  indifferent 
and  fluggifn  in  the  infinitely  more  important  concerns 
of  eternity  i     What,  felicitous  about  a  mortal  body, 
but  carelefs  about  an  immortal  foul !  Eager  in  purfuit 
of  joys  of  a  few  years,  but  carelefs  and  remifs  in  feek- 
ing  an  immortality  of  perfec^l  happinefs  !      Anxious  to 
avoid  poverty,  fhame,  ficknefs,  pain,  and  all  the  evils, 
real  or  imaginary,  of  the  prefent  life;  but  indifferent 
about  an  whole  eternity  of  the  moft  intolerable  mi- 
fery  !     O  the  deftru(^ive  folly,  the  daring  wickednefs 
of  fuch  a  condud  !      My  brethren,  is  religion  the  only 
thing  v^hich  demands  the  utmoft  exertion  of  all  your 
powers,  and  alas  !   is  that  the  only  thing  in  which  you 
will  be  dull  and  inaftive  ?    Is  everlafting  happinefs  the 
only  thing  about  v/hich  you  will  be  remifs  ?     Is  eter- 
nal punifhment  the  only  mifery  which  you  are  indiffer- 
ent whether  you  efcape  or  not?   Is  God  the  only  good 
which  you  purflie  v/ith  faint  and  lazy  defires  ?     How 

prepofterous ! 


390  '^^^^  "Danger  of  Serm.  15. 

prepofterous  !  how  abfurd  is  this  I  You  can  love  the 
world  •,  you  can  love  a  father,  a  child,  or  a  friend  ; 
nay,  you  can  love  that  abominable,  hateful  thing,  fin: 
thefe  you  can  love  with  ardor,  ferve  with  pleafure, 
purfue  with  eagernefs,  and  with  all  your  might ;  but 
■  the  ever-ble/Tea  God,  and  the  Lord  Jefus,  your  beft 
friend,  you  put  off  with  a  lukewarm  heart  and  fpirit- 
|efs  fervices,  O  inexprefhbly  mcnflrous !  Lord,  what 
is  this  that  has  befallen  thine  own  oitspring,  that  they 
are  fo  difafie61:ed  tov/ards  thee  ?  Blefled  Jefus,  what 
haft  thou  doiie  that  thou  ihouldeft  be  treated  thus  ? 
O  finners!  what  will  be  the  ccnfequence  of  fuch  a 
conduct  ?  "Will  that  God  take  you  into  the  bofom  of 
his  love  ?  will  that  Jefus  fave  you  by  his  blood,  whom 
you  make  fo  light  of?  No,  you  may  go  and  feek  a 
heaven  where  you  can  find  it;  for  God  v/ill  give  you 
none.  Go,  fliifcfor  yourfelves,  or  look  out  for  a  Sa- 
viour where  you  vviilj  Jefus  will  have  nothing  to  do 
with  you,  except  to  take  care  to  inflit-T-  proper  puniidi- 
ment  upon  you  if  you  retain  this  lukewarm  temper  to- 
wards him.    Hence,  by  way  of  improvement,  learn, 

I.  The  vanity  and  wickednefs  of  a  lukewarm  reli- 
gion. Though  you  fnould  profefs  the  beft  religion 
that  ever  came  from  heaven,  it  will  not  fave  you ;  nay, 
it  will  condemn  you  with  peculiar  aggravations  if  you 
are  lukewarm  in  it.  This  fpirit  of  indiiferency  dif- 
fufed  through  it,  turns  it  all  into  deadly  poifon.  Your 
religious  duties  are  all  abominable  to  God  v;hile  the 
vigour  of  your  fpirits  is  not  exerted  in  them..  Your 
prayers  are  infults,  and  he  will  anfwer  them  as  fuch  by 
terrible  things  \i\  righteoufnefs.  And  do  any  of  you 
hope  to  be  faved  by  fuch  a  religion.'^  I  tell  you  from 
the  God  of  truth,  it  will  be  fo  far  from  faving  you, 
that  it  will  certainly  ruin  you  for  ever  :  continue  as  you 
are  till  the  laft,  and  you  will  be  as  certairJy  damned  to 
all  eternity  as  Judas,  or  Beelzebub,  or  any  ghcft  in 
hell.     But  alas ! 

2.  How  common,  how  fafhionable  is  this  lukewarm 
religion!     This  is  the  prevailing,  epidemical  fin  of 

our 


Serm.  15.         Luke-warmnefs  in  Religion.  391 

our  age  and  country,  and  it  is  well  if  it  has  not  the 
flime  fatal  eiFeCt  upon  us  as  it  had  upon  Laodicea: 
Laodicea  loft  its  liberty,  its  religion,  and  itsdl.  There- 
fore let  Virginia  hear  and  fear,  and  do  no  more  fo 
wickedly.  We  have  thoufands  of  chriftians,  fuch  as 
they  arc  ;  as  many  chriftians  as  white  men ;  but  alas  ! 
they  are  generally  of  the  Laodicean  ftair.p  -,  they  arc 
neither  cold  nor  hot.  But  it  is  our  firft  concern  to 
know  how  it  is  with  ourfelves ;  therefore  let  this  in- 
quiry go  round  this  congregation  :  Are  you  not  fuch 
lukewarm  chriftians  ?  Is  there  any  fire  and  life  in  your 
devotions?  Or  are  not  all  your  adtive powers  engrof- 
fed  by  other  purfuits  ? — Impartially  make  the  inquiry, 
for  infinitely  more  depends  upon  it  than  upon  your 
temporal  life. 

3.  If  you  have  hitherto  been  pOiTefled  with  this 
Laodicean  fpirit,  I  befeech  you  indulge  it  no  longer. 
You  have  feen  that  it  mars  all  your  religion,  and  will 
end  in  your  eternal  ruin :  and  I  hope  you  are  not  fo 
hardened  as  to  be  proof  againft  the  energy  of  this  con- 
federation. Why  halt  you  fo  long  between  two  opi- 
nions ?  /  would  you  were  cold  or  hot.  Either  make 
thorough  work  of  religion,  or  do  not  pretend  to  it. 
Why  fhould  you  profefs  a  religion  Vv'hich  is  but  an  in- 
lipid  indifterency  with  you  ?  Such  a  religion  is  good 
for  nothing.  Therefore  awake,  arife,  exert  yourfelves. 
Strive  to  enter  in  at  the  ftrait  gate  •,  ftrive  earneftly, 
or  you  are  fhut  out  for  ever.  Infufe  heart  and  fpirit 
into  your  rehgion.  "  Whatever  your  hand  findeth  to 
do,  do  it  with  your  might."  Now,  this  moment, 
while  my  voice  founds  in  your  ears,  nov;  begin  the 
vigorous  enterprize.  Now  collect  all  the  vigour  cf 
your  fouls,  and  breathe  it  out  in  fuch  a  prayer  as  this, 
"  Lord,  fire  this  heart  with  thy  love."  Prayer  is  a 
proper  introdudion  :  for  let  me  remind  you  of  what 
I  fhould  never  forget,  that  God  is  the  onlv  Author  of 
this  facred  fire  ;  it  is  only  he  that  can  quicken  you  : 
therefore,  ye  poor  carelefs  creatures,  fly  to  him  in  an 
agony  of  importunity,  and  never  deiiil:,  never  grow 
weary  till  you  prevail.  4.  And 


39'^  If^e  Divine  Government         Senn.  iG) 

4.  And  lafily,  Let  the  beft  of  us  lament  our  luke- 
warmnefs,  and  earneftly  feek  more  fervour  of  fpirit. 
Some  cf  you  have  a  little  life  ;  you  enjoy  fome  warm 
and  vigorous  moments;  and  O!  they  are  divinely 
fweet.  But  refled;  hov/  foon  your  fpirits  flag,  your 
devotion  cools,  and  your  zeal  languiflies.  Think  of 
this,  and  be  humble :  think  of  this,  and  apply  for 
more  life.  You  know  where  to  apply.  Chriit  is  your 
life  :  therefore  cry  to  him  for  the  communications  of 
it.  "  Lord  Jefus !  a  little  miore  life,  a  little  more  vi- 
tal heat  to  a  languifhing  foul."  Take  this  method, 
and  you  Jhall  run^  and  not  he  weary  •,  you  floall  walk^  and 
not  faint.  Ifaiahxl.  31. 


SERMON     XVI. 

The  Divine  Government  the  Joy  of  our  AVorld. 


PsALAi  xcvii.  I.  The  Lord  reigneth.,  let  the  earth  rejoice i' 
let  the  multitude  of  the  ifies  be  glad  thereof. 

'ISE  and  good  rulers  are  juRly  accounted  an  ex- 
tenfive  bleffing  to  their  fubjefts.  In  a  govern- 
ment v/here  wifdom  fits  at  the  helm  ;  and  juftice,  tem- 
pered with  clemency,  holds  the  balance  of  retribution, 
liberty  and  property  are  fecured,  encroaching  ambi- 
tion is  checked,  helplefs  innocence  is  protefted,  and 
univerfal  order  is  eitablifned,  and  confequently  peace 
and  happinefs  diifafe  their  ftreams  through  the  land. 
In  fuch  a  fituation  every  heart  muft  rejoice,  every  coun- 
tenance look  cheerful,  and  every  bofom  glow  witk 
gratitude  to  the  happy  inftruments  of  fuch  extended 
beneficence. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  Wo  to  thee.,  0  land.,  when 
thy  king  is  a  child,   Ecclef.  x.  16.  weak,  injudicious, 

humourfome. 


Serrrii  i6.  ihe  Joy  of  our  JVorld.  293 

humourfome,  and  peevifh.  This  is  the  denunciation 
of  Solomon,  a  fage  philofopher,  and  an  opulent  king, 
"whofe  ftation,  capacity,  and  inclination,  confpired  to 
give  him  the  deepeil  flcill  in  poHtics:  and  this  denun- 
ciation has  been  accomplifhed  in  every  age.  Empires 
have  fallen,  liberty  has  been  fettered,  property  has 
been  invaded,  the  lives  of  men  have  been  arbitrarily 
taken  away,  and  mifery  and  defolation  have  broken  in 
like  a  flood,  v/hen  the  government  has  been  intruded 
in  the  hands  of  tyranny,  of  luxury,  orrafhnefs;  and 
the  advantages  of  climate  and  foil,  and  all  others  which 
nature  could  beftow,  have  not  been  able  to  make  the 
fubjcds  happv  under  the  baleful  influence  of  fuch  an 
adrriinifrration. 

It  has  frequently  been  the  unhappy  flite  of  nations 
to  be  enflaved  to  fuch  rulers  ;  but  fuch  is  the  unjivcid- 
able  imperfecflion  of  all  human  governments,  that 
when,  like  our  own,  they  are  managed  by  the  beil 
handsj  they  are  attended  with  many  calamities,  and 
cannot  anfwer  feveral  valuable  ends ;  and  from  both 
thefe  confiderations  we  may  infer  the  necefTity  of  a  di- 
vine government  over  the  whole  univcrfe,  and  parti- 
cularly over  the  earth,  in  which  we  are  mere  efpecially 
concerned.  Without  this  fuprem.e  univerfal  Monarchy 
the  affairs  of  this  world  would  fall  into  confufion;  and 
the  concerns  of  the  next  could  not  be  managed  at  all. 
The  capacities  of  the  wifefl  of  men  are  fcanty,  and 
not  equal  to  all  the  purpofes  of  government;  and  hence 
many  affairs  of  importance  will  be  unavoidably  mif- 
Gondudled  j  and  dangerous  plots  and  aggravated  crimes 
may  be  undifcovered  for  want  of  knowledge,  or  pafs 
unpuniihed  for  v/ant  of  power.  A  wife  and  good  ru- 
ler m.ay  be  diffufing  among  his  fubjecfls  all  that  happi- 
nefs  which  can  refult  from  the  imperfect  adminiftration 
of  mortals,  but  he  may  be  tumbled  from  his  throne, 
and  his  government  throv/n  into  the  greateft  diforder 
by  a  more  powerful  invader  •,  fo  that  the  beft  ruler 
could  not  make  his  fubjedts  laftingly  happy,  unlefs  he 
^ve^e  univerfal  monarch  of  the  globe  (a  province  too 

E  e  e  great 


^g4  ^he  Divine  Government         Sttm.  i6. 

great  for  any  mortal)  and  above  the  reach  of  the  am- 
bitious power  of  others.  Further,  Human  dominion 
cannot  extend  to  the  fouls  and  confciences  of  men : 
civil  rulers  can  neither  know  nor  govern  them  ;  and 
yet  thefe  mud  be  governed  and  brought  into  fubjec- 
tion  to  the  eternal  laws  of  reafon,  otherwife  tanquillity 
cannot  lubfiir  on  earth  ;  and  efpecially  the  great  pur- 
pofes  of  religion,  which  regard  a  future  ftate,  cannot 
be  anfv-zered. 

Men  are  placed  here  to  be  formed  by  a  proper  edu- 
cation tor  another  world,  for  another  clafs,  and  other 
employments-,  but  civil  rulers  cannot  form  them  for 
thefe  important  ends,  and  therefore  they  muft  be  un- 
der the  government  of  one  Vv^ho  has  accefs  to  their 
fpirits,  and  can  manage  them  as  he  pleafes. 

Deeply  impreft  with  thefe  and  other  confiderations, 
Vy'hich  ftiall  be  prefently  mentioned,  the  Pfalmifi:  is 
tranfported  into  this  ref!c(5lion,  The  Lord  reigneth^  let 
the  earth  rejoice;  kt  the  miiUitude  of  the  ijles  he  glad 
thereof. 

The  Pfalmift  feems  to  have  the  mediatorial  empire 
of  grace  erefted  by  Immanuel  more  immediately  in 
view ;  and  this  indeed  deferves  our  fpecial  notice ; 
but  no  doubt  he  included  the  divine  government  in 
general,  which  is  a  juft  ground  of  univerfal  joy  :  and 
in  this  latitude  I  fliall  coniider  the  text. 

Perfons  in  a  tranfport  are  apt  to  fpeak  abruptly,  and 
omit  the  particles  of  connection  and  inference  ufual  in 
calm  rcafoning.  Thus  the  Pfalmift  cries  out,  The  Lord 
reigneth^  let  fhe  earth  rejoice  \  let  the  multitude  of  the 
jjles  he  glad  thereof]  but  if  we  reduce  the  paflage  into 
an  argumentative  form,  it  will  iiand  thus,  "  The  Lord 
reignetli,  therefore  let  the  earth  rejoice  •,  and  let  the 
multitude  of  the  ifles  be  glad  upon  this  account." 

The  earth  may  here  fignify,  by  an  ufual  metonymy, 
the  rational  inhabitants  of  the  earth,  who  are  efpecially 
concerned  in  the  divine  government;  or,  by  a  beauti- 
ful poetical  profopopceia,  it  may  fignify  the  inanimate 
globe  of  the  earth  i  and  then  it  intimates  that  the  di- 
vine 


Serm.  i6.  the  Joy  of  our  World.  355 

vine  government  is  fo  important  a  blelTing,  that  even 
the  inanimate  and  fenfelefs  creation  would  rejoice  in  it^ 
were  it  capable  of  fuch  paflions.*  Tlie  ifles  may  like- 
wife  be  taken  figuratively  for  their  inhabitants,  parti- 
cularly the  Gentiles  who  refidcd  in  them;  cr  literally 
for  trails  of  land  furrounded  with  water. 
My  prefent  defign  is, 

To  iJluftrate  this  glorious  truth,  that  Jehovah's  fu- 
preme  government  is  a  jufi:  caufe  of  univerfal  joy. 

For  that  end  I  fhall  confider  the  divine  government 
in  various  views,  as  legiflative,  providential,  media- 
torial, and  judicial ;  and  fhew  that  in  each  of  tliefe 
views  the  divine  government  is  matter  of  univerfal 

joy- 

I.  The  Lord  reigneth  upon  a  throne  of  legiflation, 
let  the  earth  rejoice ;  let  the  multitude  of  the  ijles  be  glad 
thereof. 

He  is  the  one  fupreme  Lav/giver,  Jam.  \v.  12.  and 
is  perfedly  qualified  for  that  important  truft.  Nothing 
tends  more  to  the  advantage  of  civil  fociety  than  to 
have  good  laws  eftablifhed,  according  to  which  man- 
kind are  to  conduct  themfelves,  and  according  to  which 
their  rulers  will  deal  with  them.  Now  the  fupreme 
and  univerfal  King  has  eredted  and  publiilied  the  bell: 
laws  for  the  government  of  the  moral  world,  and  of 
the  human  race  in  particular. 

Let  the  earth  then  rejoice  that  God  has  clearly  re- 
vealed his  will  to  us,  and  not  left  us  in  inextricable 
perplexities  about  our  duty  to  him  and  mankind.  Hu- 
man reafon,  or  the  light  of  nature,  gives  us  fome  in- 
timations of  the  duties  of  morality,  even  in  our  dege- 
nerate ftate,  and  for  this  information  we  ihould  blefs 
God ;  but  alas  I  thefe  difcoveries  are  very  imperfetfl, 
and  we  need  fupernatural  revelation  to  niake  known 
to  us  the  way  of  life.  Accordingly,  the  Lord  has  fa- 
voured us  with  the  facred  oracles  as  a  fupplement  to 

'  the 

*  By  the  fame  figure  the  inanimate  parts  of  the  creation  are  called 
upon  to  praife  the  Lord,  Pfalm  cxlviii.  and  arc  Jaid  to  travel  ar.d 
groan  under  the  ?i,i[  of  man,  Rom.  viii,  22. 


39^  The  Bhine  Government  Serm.  i6, 

the  feeble  light  of  nature  -,  and  in  them  v/e  are  fully 
"  taught  what  is  good,  and  what  the  Lord  requireth 
of  us.''  And  what  caufe  of  joy  is  this  !  How  pain- 
ful are  the  anxieties  that  attend  uncertainty  about  mat- 
ters of  duty  !  How  diftrefling  a  doubtful,  jfluftuat- 
ing  mind  in  an  affair  of  fuch  tremendous  importance ! 
This,  no  doubt,  fome  of  you  that  are  confcientious 
have  had  the  experience  of,  in  particular  cafes,  when 
you  were  at  a  lofs  to  apply  to  them  the  general  direc- 
tions in  facred  fcripture. 

Again,  Let  the  earth  rejoice  \  let  the  multitude  of  the 
ijles  be  glad  that  thefe  laws  are  fuitably  enforced  with 
proper  fandions.  The  fanftions  are  fuch  as  become  a 
God  of  infinite  wifdom,  almighty  power,  inexorably 
juftice,  untainted  holincfs,  and  unbounded  gcodnefs 
and  grace,  and  fuch  as  are  agreeable  to  the  nature  of 
reafonable  creatures  formed  for  an  immortal  duration. 
The  rewards  of  obedience  in  the  divine  legiflation  are 
not  fuch  toys  as  polls  of  honour  and  profit,  crowns 
and  em.pires,  which  are  the  higheft  rewards  that  civil 
rulers  can  promife  or  beftov,;  •,  but  rational  peace  and 
ferenity  of  mind,  undaunted  bravery  under  the  frov/ns 
of  adverfity,  a  cheerful  confidence  in  the  divine  guar- 
dianihip  under  all  the  calamities  of  life,  and  in  the  fu- 
ture world  an  entire  exemption  from  all  forrov/,  and 
from  fin,  the  fruitful  fource  of  all  our  affedions  ;  the 
pofleffion  of  every  good,  the  enjoyment  of  the  divine 
jprefence,  of  the  fociety  of  angels  and  the  fpirits  of 
juft  men  made  perfed ;  in  fhort,  the  fruition  of  an 
happinefs  above  our  prefent  wifhes,  and  equal  to  our 
then  mature  flKulties,  and  all  this  for  ever  :  thefe  are 
the  rewards  of  evangelical  obedience,  not  indeed  for 
its  own  fake,  but  upon  account  of  righteoufnefs  of  the 
bleffed  Jefus  •,  and  if  thefe  fail  to  allure  mtn  to  obedi- 
ence, wliat  can  prevail  ?  And  how  happy  is  it  to  live 
under  a  government,  where  virtue  and  religion,  which 
in  their  own  nature  tend  to  our  happinefs,  are  enforc- 
ed with  fuch  refifdefs  arguments  !  On  the  other  hand, 
the  penalty  anncxt  by  the  divine  Lawgiver  to  difobe- 

dience 


jSerm.  i6.  the  Joy  of  our  World.  ^gy 

dience  is  proportionably  dreadful.  To  pine  and  lan- 
guifli  under  thefecret  curfe  of  angry  Heaven,  which, 
like  a  contagious  poifon,  dilFufcs  itfelf  through  all  the 
enjoyments  of  the  wicked,  Mai.  ii.  2.  to  fweat  under 
the  agonies  of  a  guilty  confcience  in  this  world,  and 
in  the  future  world  to  be  banifhed  from  the  beatific 
prefence  of  God  and  all  the  joys  of  heaven  ;  to  feel 
the  angaifli  and  remorfe  of  guilty  retleftions  ^  to  burn 
in  unquenchable  fire ;  to  confume  a  miferable  eternity 
in  the  horrid  fociety  of  malignant  ghoftsj  and  all  this 
without  the  leaft  rational  expeftation  •,  nay,  without 
fo  much  as  a  deluded  hope  of  deliverance,  or  the  miti- 
gation of  torture,  through  the  revolutions  of  endlefs 
ages,  all  this  is  a  faint  reprefentation  of  the  penalty 
annext  to  difobedience ;  and  it  is  a  penalty  worthy  a 
God  to  infli6l,  and  equal  to  the  infinite  malignity  of 
lin.  And  lei  the  earth  rejoice;  let  the  '.nidtitude  of  the 
ijles  be  glad^  on  account  not  only  of  the  promiiTory 
fandlion  of  the  law,  but  alfo  of  this  tremendous  pe- 
nalty ;  for  it  flows  not  only  from  juftice  but  from 
goodnefs,  as  well  as  its  promife.  The  penalty  is  not 
annext  to  the  law,  nor  will  it  be  executed  from  a  ma- 
lignant pleafure  in  the  mifsry  of  the  creature,  but  it 
is  annext  from  a  regard  to  the  happinefs  of  mankind, 

and  will  be  executed  uoon  individuals  for  the  extenfive 

i. 

good  of  the  v/hole  as  v/ell  as  for  the  honourable  dif- 
play  of  the  divine  purity  and  juftice.  A  penalty  is 
primarily  intended  to  deter  men  from  difobedience. 
Nov/  difobedience  tends  in  its  own  nature  to  make  us 
miferable ;  it  renders  it  impofTible,  in  the  nature  of 
things,  that  we  ftiould  be  happy  in  the  enjoyment  of 
God  and  the  employments  of  heaven,  v/hich  are  eter- 
nally and  immutably  contrary  to  finful  depofitions  ; 
and  it  fills  us  with  thofe  malignant  and  unruly  paffions 
v/hich  cannot  but  make  us  uneafy.  Hence  it  follov/s, 
that,  fince  the  penalty  tends  to  deter  us  from  fin,,  and 
fince  fin  naturally  tends  to  make  us  miferable,  there- 
fore the  penalty  is  a  kind  of  gracious  inclofure  round 
fhe  pit  of  mifery,  to  keep  us  from  falling  into  it :  it 

is 


39 S  '^he  Divine  Government  Serm.  16'. 

is  a  friendly  admonition  not  to  drink  poifon  ;  it  is,  in 
a  word,  a  kind  rertraint  upon  us  in  our  career  to  ruin  ; 
and  indeed  it  is  a  bleifing  we  could  not  fpare  •,  for  we 
£nd,  that,  notvvithftanding  the  terror  of  the  threaten- 
ing, men  will  run  on  in  fm;  and  with  how  much  more 
horrid  alacrity  and  infernal  zeal  would  they  continue 
their   courfe  if  there  were  no  divine  threatening  to 
check  and  withiipld  them  ?     The  earth  may  a!fo  re- 
joice for  the  execution  of  the  penalty  of  the  divine  law 
againft  fin;  for  the  confpicuous  puniihment  of  the  dif- 
obedient  may  ferve  as  a  loud  warning  to  all  rational 
beings  that  now  exift,  or  that  m,ay  hereafter  be  created, 
a^ot  to  ofiend  againft  God ;  and  thus  it  may  be  the 
iiieans  of  preferving  them  in  obedience,  and  fo  pro- 
mote the  general  good  ;  and  it  may  be  that  the  num- 
ber of  thofe  that  ihall  be  punillied  of  the  human  and 
angelic  natures,  when  compared    to  the    number  of 
reafonable  beings  that  fhall  be  confirmed  in  holinefs  and 
happinefs  by  obferving  their  doom,  m.ay  bear  no  more 
proportion  than  the  number  of  criminals  executed  in 
a  government  as  public  examples,  does  to  all  the  fub- 
jeds  of  it-,  and  confequently  fuch  punifliment  may  be 
vindicated  on  the  fame  principles.     Farther,  Juflice 
is  an  amiable  attribute  in  itfelf,  and  it  appears  fo  to 
all  rational   beinp-s  but  criminals,  whofe  intereft  it  is 
that  it  fliould  not  be  difplayed  -,  and  therefore  tlie  in- 
fliction of  juft  punifhment  fliould  be  matter  of  genera] 
joy,  fince  it  is  amiable  in  itfelf.     So  it  is  in  human  go- 
vernments j  while   we  are  innocent,  we   approve   of 
the  condud   of  our  magiftrates  in  inflicPcing  capital 
punifliment  upon  notorious  malefadlors,  though  the 
malefadlors  tliemfelves  view  it  with  horror.     But  to 
proceed  : 

Lei  the  earth  rejoice ;  let  the  multitude  of  the  ijles  be 
glad^  that  the  divine  laws  reach  the  inner  man,  and 
have  power  upon  the  hearts  and  confciences  of  men. 
Human  lavvs  can  only  fmooth  our  external  conduct  at 
befl,  but  the  heart  in  the  mean  time  m.ay  be  difloyal 
and  wicked.     Now  this  d.Q,{zdi  is  fupplicd  by  the  lav/s 

of 


Serm.  1 6.  the  Joy  of  our  IVorld.  399 

of  the  King  of  Heaven,  which  are  fpiritnal.  They 
require  a  complete  uniformity  and  felf-confiftency  in 
us,  that  heart  and  Hfe  may  agree;  and  therefore  they 
are  wifely  framed  to  make  us  entirely  good.  They 
have  alfo  an  inimitable  power  upon  the  confciences  of 
men.  Should  all  the  world  acquit  us,  yet  we  cannot 
acquit  ourfelves  when  we  violate  them.  The  confci- 
oufnefs  of  a  crime  has  made  many  an  hardy  offender 
fweat  and  agonize  with  remorfe,  though  no  human 
eye  could  witnefs  to  his  offence.  Now  what  caufe  of 
joy  is  it  that  thefe  laws  are  quick  and  powerful,  and 
that  they  are  attended  with  almighty  energy,  which 
in  fome  meafure  intimidates  and  reil:raints  the  moft  au- 
dacious, and  infpires  the  confcientious  with  a  pious 
fear  of  offending  ! 

II.  "  The  Lord  reigneth  by  his  Providence,  let 
the  earth  therefore  rejoice  ;  and  the  niuhitiide  of  the 
ifles  be  glad  thereof." 

The  Providence  of  God  is  well  defcribed  in  our 
Shorter  Catechifm :  "  It  is  his  moft  holy,  wife,  and 
powerful  preferring  and  governing  all  his  creatures, 
and  all  their  aftions."  To  particularize  all  the  inftances 
of  providential  government  which  may  be  matter  of 
joy  to  the  earth  would  be  endlefs,  therefore  I  fhall 
only  mention  the  following  : 

Let  the  earth  rejoice ;  and  the  multitude  of  the  ijles  he 
glad,  that  the  Lord  reigneth  over  the  kingdoms  of 
the  earth,  and  manages  all  their  affairs  according  to 
his  fovereign  and  wife  pleafure.  We  fometimes  hear 
of  wars  and  rumours  of  wars,  of  thrones  tottering, 
and  kingdoms  falling,  of  the  nations  tumultuoufly 
raging  and  dafhing  in  angry  confiid,  like  the  v/aves 
of  the  boifterous  ocean.  In  fdch  a  juncture  we  may 
fay,  The  floods  have  lifted  up,  O  Lord,  the  floods  have 
lifted  up  their  voice.  The  floods  lift  up  their  waves. 
But  the  Lord  reigneth,  therefore  the  world  fhall  be  efla- 
blifhed  that  it  cannot  he  moved. — The  Lord  on  high  is 
mightier  than  the  noife  of  many  waters ;  yea,  than  the 
tnighty  waves  of  the  Jca.  Pfaim  xciii.     Sometimes  the 

ambition 


400  The  Divine  Government  Serm.  i  &l 

ambition  of  foreign  power,  or  the  encroachments  of 
domeftic  tyranny,  may  threaten  our  liberties,  and  per- 
fecLition  may    feem    ready  to    difcharge   its    artillery 
againft  the  church  of  God,  while  every  pious  heart 
trembles  for  the  ark,  left  it  fhould  be  carried  into  the 
land  of  its  enemies.     But  the  Lord  reigneth  !   let  the 
earth,  let  the  church  rejoice;  the  eternal  God  is  her  re- 
fuge, and  underneath  her  are  the  everlafiing  arms.  Deut. 
xxxiii.  27.     He  will  over-rule  the  various  revolutions 
of  the  world  for  her  good  ;  he  will  give  kings  for  her 
ranfom,  Ethiopia  and  Seba  for  her;  and  the  united 
powers  of  earth  and  hell  iliall  not  prevail  againil  her. 
Though  the  frame  of  Nature  fhould  be  unhinged,  we 
may  find  refuge  in  our  God.     Yet  it  muft  be  owned, 
that  the  Lord  for  the  chaftifement  of  his  people  may 
fuffer  their  enemies  to  break  in  upon  them,  and  may 
cafl  them  into  the  furnace  of  aflliftion.     But  let  the 
earth  rejoice,  let  the  church, be  glad  that  the  Lord 
reigneth   over  her  mofl  powerful  enemies,  and  that 
they  are  but  executing  his  will  even  '.vhen  they  have" 
no  regard  to  it,  but  are  gratifying  their  own  ambition. 
They  are  but  a  rod  in  the  hand  of  a  tender  father, 
who  correfls  only  to  amend  :   and  when  he  has  ufed 
the  rod  for  ♦•his  gracious  purpofe,  he  will  then  lay  it 
afide.     In  this  language  the  Almighty  fpeaks  of  the 
haughty  AfTyrian  monarch   who  had  pufhed  his  con- 
quers {o  far  and  wide.   Ifaiah  x.  ^,6^  7.     O  Ajjyrian^ 
the  rod  of  mine  anger ^  &c.     I  will  give  him  my  commif- 
ficn,  and  fend  him  againjl  the  Jews,  my  favourite  peo- 
ple ;.  hecaufe  they  are  degenerated  into  an  hypocritical  na- 
tion, ar,d  he  fhall  execute  my  orders. — "  Howbeit,  iie 
meaneth  not  fo ;  it  is  far  from  his  heart  to  obey  my 
will  in  this  expedition ;  but  his  only  defign  is  to  ag- 
grandize himfelf,  and  to  deftroy  and  cut  off  nations 
not  a  fev/."     And  when  this  inftrument  of  the  divine 
vengeance  arrogates  to  himfelf  the  honour  of  Jiis  own 
fucceflts,  with  what  juft  infult  and  difdain  does  the 
Ki:ig  of  kings  fpeak  of  jiim  !    ver.  12 — 'i  ^.     Shall 
the  ax  hoafi  it f elf  againjl  him  that  heweih  therewith  .< 

As 


c 


Serm.  i6.  the  Joy  of  our  JVorhL  401 

As  if  the  rod  fljould  (hake  ilfelf  againfi  hhn  that  lifteth 
it  up^  &c.  The  defign  of  God  in  thefe  chailiiements 
is  to  purge  away  the  iniquity  of  his  people;  and  thir; 
is  all  the  fruic  of  them  to  take  away  their  fin  •,  and 
when  this  gracious  defign  is  atifwercd,  they  lliall  bii 
removed  i  and  the  rod  of  the  wicked  foall  not  always  lie 
upon  the  lot  of  the  righteous.  Pfalm  cxxv,  3.  Now 
v/hat  caufe  of  univerfal  joy  is  this,  that  One  infinitely 
wife  fits  at  the  helm,  and  can  fteer  the  feeble  vefiel 
of  his  church  through  all  the  outrageous  ftorms  of 
this  unfriendly  climate  and  tempefcuous  ocean  !  Fie 
may  feeni  a:  times  to  lie  afleep,  but  in  the  article  of 
extreme  danger  he  will  awake  and  ftill  the  winds  and 
the  fea  with  his  fovereign  mandate,  Peace,  be  JiiU. 
Men  may  form  deep  and  politic  fchemes,  and  purpofe 
their  accomplifnment  in  defiance  of  Heaven,  but  God 
difappoinleth  the  devices  of  the  crafty^  fo  that  their  hands 
cannot  perform  their  enierprife.  He  iaketh  the  wife  iiz 
their  own  craftinefs,  and  the  coiinfel  of  the  froward  is 
carried  headlong.  Job  v.  .12,  13.  This  was  exem.pli- 
fied  in  the  cafe  of  Ahithophel,  i  Sam.  xvii.  14.  The 
Jicarts  of  men,  yea  of  kings,  are  in  the  hand  of  the 
Lord,  and  he  turn^th  them  whitberfoever  he  will.  Prov. 
xxi.  I.  (fee  alfo  chap.  xvi.  i,  9.  and  xix.  21.)  And 
how  joyful  a  thought  this,  that  we  are  not  at  the  arbi- 
trary difpofal  of  our  fellow-mortals,  and  that  afftiirs 
are  not  managed  accoiding  to  their  capricious  pieafiire, 
but  that  our  God  is  in  the  heaven,  and  dcth  v/hatfo- 
ever  he  pleafeth  !   Pfalm  ex  v.  3. 

Again,  the  church  may  be  endangered  by  intefliins 
divihons  and  offences.  The  profeiTors  of  religion  may 
ftumble  and  fall,  and  {o  wound  the  hearts  of  the  friends 
of  Zion,  and  give  matter  of  triumph  and  infult  to  its 
enemies.  Some  may  apoftatize,  and  return  like  tha 
dog  to  his  vomit.  A  general  lukewarmnefs  m.ay  dif-. 
fufe  itfelf  through  the  church,  and  even  thofe  who 
retain  their  integrity  in  the  main  may  feel  the  conta- 
gion. Divifions  and  animofities  may  be  inflamed, 
mutual  love  may  be  extinguifhed,  and  a  fpirit  of  dif- 

F  f  f  copd 


402  ^fhe  Bhine^Governmeni:  Serm.  16/ 

cord  fucceed  in  Its  place.  A  moft  melancholy  cafe  this, 
and  too  much  like  our  own  ;  and  our  hearts  fink  at 
times  beneath  the  burden.  But  the  Lord  reigneth  ;  let 
the  earth  be  glad.  He  can  reduce  this  confufion  into 
order,  and  make  the  wrath  of  man  to  praife  him,  and 
reftrain  the  remainder  of  it.  Pfalm  Ixxvi.  10.  It  is  the 
peculiarity  of  divine  wifdcm  to  educe  good  out  of  fevll, 
and  iet  us  rejoice  in  it.  God  is  fupreme,  and  there- 
fore can  controul  all  the  wicked  paffions  of  the  mind. 
He  has  the  refidue  of  the  fpirit,  and  can  rekindle  the 
languifliing  flame  of  devotion.  And  O  let  us  apply 
to  him  with  the  moft  vigorous  and  unwearied  impor- 
tunity for  fo  necefiary  a  bleffing  ! 

Again,  we  are  expofed  to  numberlefs  accidental  and 
linforcfeen  dangers,  which  we  cannot  prevent  nor  en- 
counter. Sicknefs  and  death  maay  proceed  from  a  thou- 
fand  unfufpedled  caufes.  Our  friends,  our  eftates, 
and,  in  fnort,  all  our  earthly  enjoyments,  m.ay  be  torn 
from  us  by  a  variety  of  accidents.  We  walk,  as  it 
were,  in  the  dark,  and  may  tread  on  remedilefs  dan- 
gers ere  we  are  aware.  But  the  Lord  reigneth  ;  let  the 
earth  he  glad!  Contingent  events  are  at  his  difpofal, 
and  neceflity  at  his  controul. .  The  fmalleft  things  are 
not  beneath  the  notice  of  his  providence,  and  the 
greateft  are  not  above  it.  Difeafes  and  misfortunes 
that  feem  to  happen  by  chance,  are  commiifioned  by 
the  Lord  of  all  -,  and  they  that  refult  evidently  from 
natural  caufes  are  fent  by  his  almighty  will.  He  fays 
to  one,  go,  and  it  goeth  •,  and  to  another  come,  and 
it  Cometh :  he  orders  the  devaftations  that  are  made 
by  the  moft  outrageous  elements.  If  flames  lay  our 
houfes  in  afhes,  they  are  kindled  by  his  breath.  If 
hurricanes  fweep  through  our  land,  and  carry  defola- 
tion  along  with  them,  they  perform  his  will,  and  can 
dq  nothing  beyond  it:  his  hand  hurls  the  thunder, 
and  direds  it  where  to  ftrike.  An  arrow  or  a  bullet 
fhot  at  a  venture  in  the  heat  of  battle,  is  carried  to 
its  mark  by  divine  direfcion.  How  wretched  a  world 
would  this  be  were  it  not  under  the  wife  management 

of 


Serm.  1 6.  the  Joy  of  our  World.  403 

of  divine  Providence  !  If  chnnce  or  blind  fi(e  were 
its  rulers,  what  defolations  would  crowd  upon  us  every 
moment !  v/e  fhould  foon  be  crufhed  in  the  ruins  of  a 
fallen  world.  Every  wind  that  blows  might  blaft  us 
with  death,  and  fire  and  v/atcr  would  mingle  in  a 
blended  chaos,  and  bury  us  in  their  deftru6lion.  But 
fo  exteniive  is  the  care  of  Providence,  that  even  the 
fparrows  may  find  fafety ,  in  it  \  and  we  cannot  Icfe  fo 
much  as  an  hair  of  our  neads  without  its  perraifiion. 
Matt,  X.  29,  30,  31.  And  how  much  more  then  are 
our  perfons  and  our  affairs  of  importance  under  its 
guardianfhip  and  direftion  ! 

Again,  we  are  in  perpetual  danger  from  the  malig- 
nant agency  of  infernal  fpirits,   v/ho  watch  all  oppor- 
tunities to  ruin  the  fouls,   bodies,  and  eflates  of  men, 
Thefe  flibtle  fpirits  can  inje(fl:  infnaring  thoughts   into 
our  minds,  and  prefent  fuch  images   to  the  fancy  as 
may  allure  the  foul  to  fin.     This  is  repeatedly  afferted 
in  fcripture,  and  attefted  by  the  melancholy  experience 
of  multitudes  in  all  ages.     That  they  have  power  alfo 
in  the  material  world  to  raife  florms  and  tempefts,  and 
to  ruin  men's  eftates,  and  infiicfl  difeafes  on  their  bodies, 
is  plain  from  the  cafe  of  Job,  and  many  in  our  Sa- 
viour's time,  and  from  Satan's  being  called  the  prince 
of  the  power  of  the  air;    and  his   ailociates  fpiritual 
zvickednej/es  in  high  places.     And  what  horrid  devafta- 
tions  would  thefe  powerful  and  malicious  beings  fpread 
through  the  world  if  they  were  not  under  the  controul 
of  divine  Providence!    They  v/ould  perpetually  haunt 
our  minds  with  infnaring  or  terrifying  images,  would 
meet  us  with  temptations  at  every  turn,  and  lead  us 
willing  captives  to  hell.      They  would  alfo  firip  us  en- 
tirely of  all  temporal  enjoyments,  torture  our  bodies 
with. grievous  pains,  or  moulder  them  into  dufc  with 
confuming  and  loathfome  difeafes.    But  the  Lord  reign- 
eth  ;  let  the  earth  be  glad.    He  keeps  the  infernal  lions 
in  chains,  and  retrains  their  rage.     He  fees  all  their 
fubtle  plots  and  machinations  againfl  his  feeble  fheep, 
and  bafHes  them  all.     "  He  will  not  fuffer  his  people 

to 


4^4  2"^  Divine  Government  Serm.  1 6. 

to  be  ^tempted  above  what  they  are  able  to  bear  ;,  but 
with  the  temptation  will  alfo  make  a  way  to  efcape. 
I  Cor.  X.  13.  And  when  he  fufFers  them  to  be  buf- 
fetted,  his  grace  fhall  be  fufficient  for  them,  &c.  2  Cor. 
xii.  7,  9.  He  hath  alfo  (as  Satan  himfelf  confefTed 
with  regard  to  Job)  made  an  hedge  about  us,  about 
our  houfes,  and  about  all  that  we  have  on  every  fide. 
Job  i.  10.  and  hence  we  live  and  enjoy  the  blellings 
of  life.  What  caufe  of  grateful  joy  is  this  !  V/ho 
would  not  rather  die  than  live  in  a  world  ungoverned 
by  divine  Providence  !  This  earth  would  foon  be 
turned  into  a  hell,  if  the  infernal  armies  were  let  loofe 
upon  it. 

III.  The  Lord  reigneth  upon  a  throne  of  grace  ! 
"  let  the  earth  rejoice,  and  the  multitude  of  the  ides 
be  glad.''   ■ 

It  is  the  mediatorial  government  of  the  MefTiah 
which  the  Pfalmiil  liad  more  immediately  in  viev/; 
and  this  is  the  principal  caufe  of  joy  to  the  earth  and 
5ts  guilty  inhabitants.  This  is  a  kind  of  government 
peculiar  to  the  human  race:  the  upright  angels  do  not 
need  it,  and  the  fallen  angels  are  not  favoured  with 
it.  This  is  invefted  in  the  perfon  of  Immanuel, 
*'  who  is  made  head  over  all  things  to  his  church," 
ILphef.  i.  22.  "  to  Vv'hom  all  power  in  heaven  and  earth 
is  given."  Matt.  xi.  27.  and  xxviii.  18.  This  is  the 
kingdom  defcribed  in  fuch  auguft  language  in  Dan.  ii. 
ver.  44,45.  and  vii.  14.  Luke  i.  32,  33.  Hence  that 
Jefus  who  was  mocked  with  a  crown  of  thorns,  and 
condemned  as  a  criminal  at  Pilate's  bar,  wears  on  his 
vefture  and  on  his  thigh  this  majeftic  infcription.  King 
of  kingSy  and  Lord  of  lords.  Rev.  xix.  16.  And  be- 
hold I  bring  you  glad  tidings  ;  this  kingdom  of  God 
is  come  unto  you,  and  you  are  called  to  become  its 
fubjedts,  and  fhare  in  its  bleffings.  Wlierever  the  gof- 
pel  is  preached,  there  Jehovah  fits  upon  a  mercy-feat 
in  majefty  tempered  with  condefcending  grace.  From 
Thence  he  invites  rebels  that  had  rejedted  his  govern- 
ment to  return  to  their  allegiance,  and  pa/i*es  an  a(5l  of 

grace 


Serm.  i6.  the  Joy  of  our  IVorld.  405 

grace  upon  all  that  comply  with  the  invitation.      To 
his  throne  of  grace  he  invites  all  to  come,  and  offers 
them  the  richeft  bleflings.     FrOm  thence  he  publiflies 
peace  on  earth,   and  good-will  towards   men.     From 
thence  he  offers  pardon  to  all  that  will  fnbmit  to  his 
government,  and  renounce  their  fins,  thofe  weapons 
of  rebellion.    From  thence  he  distributes  the  influences 
of  his   Spirit  to  fubdue  obflinate  hearts  into  cheerful 
fubmiffion,  to  fupport  his  fubjeds  under  every  bur- 
den, and  furnifh  them  with  ftrength  for  the  fpir'tual 
Vv^arfare.    He  fubdues  their  rebellious  corruptions,  ani- 
mates their  languilhing  graces,  and  proteifls  them  from 
their  fpiritual  enemies.*    He  ena(5ts  laws  for  the  regu- 
lation of  his  church,  appoints  ordinances  for  her  edifi- 
cation, and  qualifies  minifters  to  difpenfe  them.      He 
h.?Lth.  ajcended  up  on  high;  he  hath  received  gifts   for 
men;  and  thefe  he  hath  diftributed,  and  given  j/o/Wi?, 
prophets;  and for,ie^  apojiles ;  and  fome^  evangelijls  ;  and 
fome,  pajiors  and  teachers  -,  for   the  perfc£fing  of  the 
faints^  for  the  work  of  the  miniflry,  for  the  edifying  of 
the  body  of  Chrifi.  Ephef  iv.  8,  1 1,  12.     And  it  is  by 
virtue  of  authority  derived  from  him  that  his  minifters 
now  officiate,  and  you  receive  his  ordinances  at  their 
hands.     Now  how  happy  are  we,  that  we  live  under 
the  mediatorial  adminiftration  I   under  the  empire  of 
grace  ! — Let  the  earth  rejoice;  let  the  multitude  of  the 
ijles  be  glad  upon  this  account.     And  let  us  pray  that 
all  nations  may  become  the  willing  fubjed:s  of  our  gra- 
cious fovereign.     If  this  adminiftration  of  grace  had 
not  been  ere6led,  in  what  a  miferable  fituation  ftiould 
we  have  been  !   guilty,  miferable,  and  hopelefs  !    Let 
us  rejoice  that  tlie  King  of  heaven,  from  whom  we 
had  revolted,  has  not  fuffered  us  to  perifti  without  re- 
medy in  our  unnatural   rebellion,  but  holds  out  the 
fceptre  of  his  grace  to  us,  that  we  may  touch  it  and 
live. 

IV.  And 

*  See  his  reign  mofl:  beautifully  defcribed  under  the  type  of  Solo- 
r-Tn.  Pfalm  Isxii. 


4o6  The  Divine  Government  Serm.  i5. 

IV.  And  laftly,  the  Lorcf  will  reign  ere  long  upon 
a  throne  of  univerfal  judgment  confpicuous  to  the  af- 
fembled  univerfe,  let  the  earth  therefore  rejoice.,  and  the 
multitude  of  the  ijles  be  glad. 

Here  I  may  borrow  the  inimitable  language  of  the 
Pfalmift,  ffalm  xcvi.  lo,  13.  The  Lord  fu  all  judge 
the  people  righteoujly.  Let  the  heavens  rejoice^  and  let 
the  earth  he  glad:  let  the  Jea  roar^  and  the  fulnefs  thereof: 
let  the  fields  be  joyful.,  and  all  that  is  therein  •,  then  fljall 
all  the  trees  of  the  wood  rejoice  before  the  Lord.,  for  he 
Cometh  I  for  he  cometh  to  judge  the  earth.  "  He  fliall 
judge  the  world  with  righteoufnefs  and  the  people  with 
his  truth."  This  will  indeed  be  a  day  of  infupport- 
able  terror  to  his  enemies,  Rev.  vi.  15,  16.  but,"  on 
many  accounts,  it  will  prove  a  day  of  joy  and  triumph. 

This  day  will  unfold  all  the  myfteries  of  divine  Pro- 
vidence, which  are  nov/  unfearchable.  There  are  many 
difpenfations  now  for  which  we  cannot  account.  Many 
bleflings  are  beftowed,  many  calamities  fail,  and  many 
events  happen,  of  which  m.ortals  cannot  fee  the  reafon. 
Profperlty  is  the  lot  of  fome  who  feem  the  peculiar 
objefts  of  divine  vengeance ;  and  many  groan  under 
afflidiions  who  feem  more  proper  obje6ts  of  providen- 
tial beneficence.     We  are  often  led  into  ways,  the  end 
of  which  we  cannot  fee,  and  are  bewildered  in  various 
perplexities  about  the  de/igns  of  divine  Providence  to- 
wards us.     Hence  alfo  impiety  takes  occasion  to  cavil 
at  the  ways  of  God  as  not  equal,  and  to  cenfure  his 
government  as  weakly  administered.     But  in  that  day 
all  his  ways  will  appear  to  be  judgment.     The  clouds 
and  darknefs  that  now  furround  them  will  vanilli,  and 
the  beams  of  wifdom,  gocdnefs,  and  juftice,  will  fhine 
illuftrious  before  the  whole  univerfe,  and  every  crea- 
ture fhall  join  the  plaudit,  He  hath  done  all  things  well! 
Nov;  we  can  at  beft  but  fee  a  fev/  links  in  the  chain  of 
providence,  but  then  we  fhall  fee  it  all  entire  and  com-  ' 
plete ;  then  the  whole  fyftem  will  be  expofed  to  view 
nt  once,  v/hich  will  difcover   the   flrange  fymmetry, 
connexions,  dependencies,  and  references  of  all  the 

parts. 


Serm.  i6.  the  Joy  of  our  World.  407 

parts,  without  which  we  can  no  more  judge  of  the  ex- 
cellency of  the  procedure  than  a  ruftic  could  tell  the 
life  of  the  feveral  parts  of  a  watch,  if  he  friw  them 
fcattered  in  various  places.  Let  the  earth  therefore 
be  glad  in  expeclation  of  this  glorious  dilcovery. 

Again,  let  the  earth  rejoice  that  in  that  day  the  pre- 
fent  unequal  diflributions  of  Providence  will  be  for 
ever  adjufted,  and  regulated  according  to  the  ftridrcft 
juftice.  This  is  not  the  place  or  feafon  for  retribution, 
and  therefore  we  need  not  be  furprifed  that  the  blef- 
fings  and  calamities  of  this  life  are  not  difpofed  accord- 
ing to  men's  real  characters  •,  but  then  every  man  (hall 
be  dealt  with  according  to  his  works.  Opprefled  in- 
nocence will  be  redreiled,  and  infolence  for  ever  mor- 
tified :  calumny  will  be  confuted,  and  flattery  expof- 
ed :  Lazarus  {hall  be  comforted,  and  Dives  tormented : 
impious  kings  fhall  be  driven  into  the  infernal  pit, 
while  pious  beggars  ihall  be  advanced  to  the  heights 
of  happinefs.  In  ihort,  all  matters  will  then  be  fet 
right,  and  therefore  let  the  earth  rejoice. 

Again,  let  the  earth  rejoice  that  in  that  day  the 
righteous  ihall  be  completely  delivered  from  all  fin  and 
forrow,  and  advanced  to  the  perfe6lion  of  heavenly 
happinefs.  Then  they  fliall  enter  upon  the  full  frui- 
tion of  that  blifs,  which  is  now  the  objedl  of  all  their 
anxious  hopes  and  earneft  labours. 

But  we  muil:  change  the  fcene  into  tragedy,  and 
take  a  viev/  of  trembling  criminals  hearing  their  dread- 
ful doom,  and  finking  to  hell  with  horrible  anguifh. 
And  muft  the  earth  rejoice  in  this  too  ?  Yes,  but 
with  a  folemn  tremendous  joy.  Even  the  condemna- 
tion and  everlafting  mifery  of  thefe  is  right  and  juft, 
is  amiable  and  glorious  -,  and  God,  angels,  and  faints, 
will  at  the  great  day  rejoice  in  it.  The  awful  gran- 
deur of  jufhice  will  be  illuflrated  in  it ;  and  this  is  mat- 
ter of  joy.  The  punifhment  of  irreclaimable  impe- 
nitents  will  be  an  efredtual  warning  to  all  reafonable 
beings,  and  to  all  future  creations,  as  has  been  obferv- 
ed;  and  by  it  they  will  be  deterred  from  difobedience  •, 

and 


40 8  The  Bivine  Government         Serin.  1(7. 

and  this  is  the  caufe  of  joy.  Thefs  criminals  will  then 
be  beyond  repentance  and  reformation,  and  therefore 
it  is  impoilible  in  the  nature  of  things  they  fhould  be 
happy,  and  why  then  fhould  Heaven  be  encumbered 
with  them  ?  Is  it  not  caufe  of  joy  that  they  fhould 
be  confmed  in  prifon  who  have  made  themfelves  unfit 
for  fociety  ?  In  the  prefent  ftate  finners  are  obje(5ts  of 
our  companion  and  forrow,  and  the  whole  creation 
mourns  for  them.  Rom.  viii.  22.  But  God  will  then 
rejoice  in  their  ruin,  and  laugh  at  their  calamity,  Prov. 
i.  26.   and  all  dutiful  creatures  will  join  in  his  joy. 

Thus  you  fee  that  the  Lord  reigneth.  And  who, 
poor  feeble  faints,  who  is  this  that  fuftains  this  uni- 
verfal  government,  and  rules  the  whole  creation  ac- 
cording to  his  pleafure  ?  It  is  your  Father,  your  Sa- 
viour, your  Friend  !  It  is  he  that  entertains  a  tenderer 
regard  for  you  than  ever  glowed  in  an  human  breaft. 
And  can  you  be  fo  foolifh  as  to  regard  the  furmifes  of 
unbelief.''  Can  you  force  yourfclves  to  fear  that  he 
will  ever  leave  or  forfake  you  }  Can  you  fufpedl  that 
he  will  fuffer  you  to  fall  an  helplefs  prey  to  your  ene- 
mies .^  No,  your  Lord  reigneth,  therefore  rejoice. 
Rejoice  in  the  Lord  always  •,  and  again  I  fay  rejoice. 
"While  he  keeps  the  throne  of  the  univerfe,  you  ihall 
be  fafe  and  happy.  Your  Father  is  greater  than  all, 
and  none  can  pluck  you  out  of  his  hands.  Remember 
he  fits  upon  a  throne  of  grace,  therefore  come  to  him 
with  boldnefs.  You  may  fmile  at  calamity  and  confu- 
fion,  and  rejoice  amid  the  ruins  of  the  world  :  you 
may  borrow  the  language  of  David,  Pfalm  xlvi.  or  of 
Habbakuk,  ch.  iii.  ver.  J7,  18.  Remember  alfo,  that 
as  he  is  a  King  he  demands  your  cheerful  obedience, 
and  therefore  make  his  fervice  the  bufinefs  of  your 
life. 

And,  unhappy  finners  !  let  me  afk  you.  Who  is 
this  that  reigns  King  of  the  univerfe  ?  Why,  it  is  he 
wliom  you  have  rcjcded  from  being  King  over  you; 
it  is  he  againft  Vv^hom  you  have  rebelled,  and  v/ho  is 
therefore  your  jufc  enemy.     And  are  you  able  to  make 

good 


Serm.  !(?.  the  Joy  of  our  World.  4.0^ 

good  your  caufe  againfl:  him  who  has  univeiTal  nature 
at  his  nod  ?  How  dreadful  is  your  fituation!  That 
which  may  make  the  earth  rejoice,  may  make  you 
fear  and  tremble.  The  Lord  reigneth,  let  finners 
tremble.  You  mufi:  fall  before  him,  if  you  will  not 
cheerfully  fubmit  to  his  government.  Let  me  there- 
fore renew  the  ufual  neglefted  declaration,  "  He  fits 
upon  a  throne  of  grace."  Let  me  once  more  in  his 
name  proclaim  reconciliation  !  reconciliation  I  in  your 
ears,  and  invite  you  to  return  to  your  allegiance.  Lay 
down  your  arms,  forfake  your  ilns.  Haften,  haften 
to  him.  The  fword  of  his  juftice  now  hangs  over 
your  heads  while  I  am  managing  the  treaty  with  you  ; 
and  therefore  delay  not.  Yield!  yield,  or  die;  fur- 
render,  or  perifh  -,  for  you  have  no  other  alternative. 
Submit,  and  you  may  join  the  general  joy  at  his  go- 
vernment. You  upon  earth,  and  devils  and  damned 
ghofts  in  hell,  are  the  only  beings  that  areforry  for  it; 
but  upon  your  fabmiffion  your  forrow  fhall  be  turned 
into  joy,  and  you  fhall  exult  when  the  Lord  of  all  comes 
to  judge  the  world  with  righteoufnefs,  and  the  people  with 
kis  truth.  Pfalm  xcvi.  13* 


Ggg  SERMON 


SERMON     XVII. 

The  Name  of  God  proclaimed  by  himfelf. 


Exod:  xxxlii.  1 8,  19.  Jnd  he /aid,  I  befeech  thee^Jhew 
me  tloy  glory.  And  he  faid^  I  will  make  all  my  good- 
nefs  pafs  before  thee^  and  I  will  prochim  the  name  of 
the  Lord  before  thee — 

WITH 

Chap,  xxxiv.  6,  7.  And  the  Lord  paffed  by  before  him, 
and  proclaimed^  The  Lord^  the  Lord  God,  merciful 
and  gracious,  long-fuffering,  and  abundant  in  goodnefs 
and  truth  \  keeping  mercy  for  thoufands,  forgivi'ng  in- 
iquity and  tranfgrejfion  and  fin,  and  that  will  by  no 
means  clear  the  guilty. 

IT  is  a  very  natural  and  proper  inquiry  for  a  creature, 
"  Where  is  God  my  Maker  ?"  And  an  heart  that 
loves  him  muft  long  to  know  more  of  him,  and  is 
ever  ready  to  join  with  Mofes  in  his  petition,  ^hew  me, 
I  pray  thee,  thy  glory,  or,  "  Reveal  thyfelf  to  me." 
That  thou  art,  I  infer  from  my  own  exiftence,  and 
from  thy  numerous  Vv'orks  all  around  me  •,  and  that 
thou  art  glorious,  I  learn  from  the  difplay  of  thy  per- 
fections in  thy  vafl:  creation,  and  in  the  government 
of  the  world  thou  haft  made.  But,  alas  !  how  fmall 
a  portion  of  God  is  known  in  the  earth  ?  How  faint- 
ly does  thy  glory  fhine  in  the  feeble  eyes  of  mortals  '^. 
My  knowledge  of  things  in  the  prefent  ftate  of  flefli 
and  blood  depends  in  a  great  meafure  upon  the  fenfes;. 
but  God  is  a  fpirit  invifible  to  eyes  of  flefh,  and  im- 
perceptible through  the  grbfs  medium  of  fenfation. 
How  and  when  fhall  I  know  thee  as  thou  art,  thow 
great,  thou  dear  unknown  .''  In  what  a  ftrange  fitua- 
tion  am  I !     I  am  furrounded  with  thy  omniprefence, 

yet 


Serm.  17.     God*s  Name  proclaimed  hy  himfelf.         4f  i 

yet  I  cannot  perceive  thee :  thou  art  as  near  me  as  I 
am  to  myfelf;  "  thou  knoweft  my  rifing  up  and  my 
fitting  down;  thou  underftandeft  my  thoughts  afar 
oiF;  thou  penetrateft  my  very  efience,  and  knoweft 
me  altogether.  Pfalm  cxxxix.  2,  &c."  But  to  me 
thou  dwelleft  in  impervious  darknefs,  or,  which  is  the 
fame,  in  light  inaccefiible.  O  that  I  knew  where  I 
might  find  him !  Behold  I  go  forward^  but  he  is  not  there  -, 
and  backward^  but  I  cannot  perceive  him :  on  the  left 
handy  where  he  doth  work^  but  I  cannot  behold  him: 
he  hideth  himfelf  on  the  right  hand,  that  1  cannot  Jee  him. 
Job  xxiii.  3,  8,  9.  I  fee  his  perfeclions  beaming  upon 
me  from  all  his  works,  and  his  providence  ever-aflive 
ruling  the  vail  univerfe,  and  diffufing  life,  motion, 
and  vigour  through  the  whole  :  the  virtue  of  his  wif- 
dom,  power,  and  goodnefs, 

Warms  in  the  fun,  refrefhes  in  the  breeze ; 

Glows  in  the  ftars,  and  bloflbms  in  the  trees ; 

Lives  in  all  life,  extends  through  all  extent ; 

Spreads  undivided,  operates  unfpent  j 

Infpires  cur  foul,  informs  our  vital  part. —  Pope. 

But  where  is  the  great  Agent  himfelf.''  Thefe  are 
his  works,  and  they  are  glorious;  "  in  wifdom  has  he 
made  them  all,"  but  where  is  the  divine  Artificer  ^. 
From  thefe  difplays  of  his  glory,  which  ftrike  my 
fenfes,  I  derive  fome  ideas  of  him;  but  O  !  how  faint 
and  glimmering  !  how  unlike  to  the  all-perfe6t  Arche- 
type and  Original !  I  have  alfo  heard  of  him  by  the 
hearing  of  the  ear  :  I  read  his  own  defcriptions  of  him- 
felf in  his  word  ;  I  contemplate  the  reprefentatioas  he 
has  given  of  himfelf  in  his  ordinances  ;  and  thefe  are 
truly  glorious,  but  they  are  adapted  to  the  dark  and 
groveling  minds  of  mortals  in  this  obfcure  region,  and 
fall  infinitely  fhort  of  the  original  glory.  I  can  think 
of  him  ;  I  can  love  him;  I  can  converfe  and  carry-  on 
a  fpiritual  intercourfe  with  him  ;  I  feel  him  working 
iin  my  heart ;  I  receive  feniible  communications  of  love 
and  grace  from  him;  I  dwell  at  times  with  unknov/n 
^ielight  in  the  contemplation  of  his  glory,   and  am 

tranfportecj 


4^2  llje  Name  of  God  Serm.  i7.' 

tranfportcd  with  the  furvey  :  but,  alas  !  I  cannot  fully 
know  him  j  I  cannot  dive  deep  into  this  myfiery  of 
glory  :  my  fenfes  cannot  perceive  him  •,  and  m.v  mtel- 
Je<5i:ual  pov/ers  in  the  prefent  (late  are  not  quaiiiied  to 
converfe  with  fpiritual  objedls,  and  form  a  full  ac- 
quaintance with  them.  C  '  if  it  would  pleafc  my  God 
to  fhew  me  his  glory  in  its  full  luftre  !  O  that  he 
■would  reveal  himfclf  to  me  fo  as  that  my  fcnfcs  may 
affift  my  raindj  if  fuch  a  manner  of  revelation  be  doI- 
fible  I 

Such  thoughts  as  thefe  may  naturally  rife  in  our 
minds ;  and  probably  feme  fuch  thoughts  pofiefied 
the  mind  of  Mofes,  and  were  the  cccafion  of  his  re- 
queft,  /  befeecb  theejhew  me  thy  ^  lory. 

Thefe  chapters  v/hence  we  have  taken  our  fubjed: 
of  difcourfe,  prefent  us  with  tranfadlions  that  m.uft 
feem  very  ftrange  and  incredible  to  a  mind  that  knows 
nothing  of  communion  with  the  Father  of  Spirits,  and 
that  is  turniihed  only  with  miodern  ideas. 

Here  is,  not  an  angel,  but  a  man;  not  a  creature 
only  but  a  linner,  a  linner  once  as  depraved  as  ourfelves, 
in  intimate  audience  with  the  Deity.  Jehovah  fpeaks 
to  him  face  to  face,  as  a  man  fpeaketh  to  kis  friend. 
Mofes  ufes  his  intereft  in  favour  of  a  rebellious  peo- 
ple, and  it  was  fo  great  that  he  prevailed  :  nay,  to 
ihew  the  force  of  his  intercelTions,  and  to  give  him  an 
encouragement  to  ufc  them,  God  condefcends  to  re- 
prefent  hinifelf  as  retrained  by  this  importunate  peti- 
tioner, and  unable  to  punilh  the  ungrateful  Ifraclites, 
while  Mofes  pleaded  for  them,  Let  me  alone.,  fays  he, 
ikat  my  lorath  may  wax  hot  agcinft  this  people,  that  I 
may  confume  them.  Exod.  xxx'i.  lo.  Mofes  urges  pe- 
tition upon  petition  •,  and  he  obtains  bleiling  upon 
hlcfling,  as  though  God  could  deny  nothing  to  fuch  a 
jfavourite.  He  nrft  deprecates  the  divine  wrath,  that 
it  might  not  immediately  break  out  upon  the  Ifraclites, 
and  cut  them  off,  verfes  1 1 — 14.  Vv'^hen  he  has  gain- 
ed this  point,  he  advances  farther,  and  pleads  that 
God  v.'culd  be  their  Condudor  through  the  wildernefs, 

J  as 


Serm.  17.  proclaimed  by  himf elf .  413 

as  he  had  been  till  that  time,  and  lead  them  into  the 
promifed  land.  In  this  article  God  feems  to  put  him 
oit,  and  to  devolve  the  vvork  of  condu(5ling  them 
upon  himfelf;  but  Mofes,  fenfible  that  he  v.-as  not 
equal  to  it,  infills  upon  the  requeft,  and  with  a  facred 
dexterity  urges  the  divine  promifes  to  enforce  it.  Je- 
hovah at  length  appears,  as  it  were,  partly  prevailed 
upon,  and  promifes  to  fend  his  angel  before  him  as 
his  guide.  Chap,  xxxii.  34.  and  xxxiii.  2.  But  alas  ! 
an  angel  cannot  fill  up  his  place;  and  Mofes  renews 
his  petition  to  the  Lord,  and  humbly  tells  him  that  he 
had  rather  ftay,  or  even  die  where  they  were  in  the 
wildernefs,  than  go  up  to  the  promifed  land  without 
him.  If  thy  -pre fence  go  not  isoith  me^  carry  us  not  up 
hence^  chap,  xxxiii.  15.  "■  alas!  the  company  of  an 
angel,  and  the  pofTeiTion  of  a  land  flowing  with  milk 
and  honey  will  not  fatisfy  us  without  thyfelf."  His 
prayers  prevail  for  this  blcliing  alfo,  and  Jehovah  will 
not  deny  him  any  thing.  O  the  furprifing  prevalency 
of  faith  !  O  the  efHcacy  of  the  fervent  prayer  of  a 
righteous  man  ! 

And  now,  when  his  people  are  reftored  unto  the 
divine  favour,  and  God  has  engaged  to  go  with  them, 
has  Mofes  any  thing  m^ore  to  aik  ?  Yes,  he  found 
he  had  indeed  great  intereft  with  God,  and  O  !  he 
loved  him,  and  longed,  and  languifned  for  a  clearer 
knowledge  of  him  :  he  found  that  after  all  his  friend- 
ly interviev/s  and  conferences  he  knew  but  little  of  his 
glory  i  and  now,  thought  he,  it  is  a  proper  time  to 
put  in  a  petition  for  this  manifeftation;  v/ho  knows 
but  it  may  be  granted  !  Accordingly  he  prays  with  ■ 
a  mixture  of  filial  boldnefs  and  trembling  modefty,  / 
bejcccb  thee,  fhew  me  thy  glory:  that  is  to  fay,  "  Now 
I  am  in  converfe  v/ith  thee,  I  perceive  thou  art  the 
mofc  glorious  of  all  beings;  but  it  is  but  little  of  thy 
glory  I  as  yet  know.  O!  is  it  poflible  for  a  guilty 
mortal  to  receive  clearer  difcoveries  of  it  ?  If  fo,  I 
pray  thee  favour  me  with  a  more  full  and  bright  viev/.'* 
This  petition  is  alfo  granted,  and  the  Lord  promifes 

hini, 


4^4  ^ he  Name  of  God  Serm.  17. 

him,  /  will  make  all  my  goodnefs  pafs  before  thee,  and  I 
will  proclaim  the  name  of  the  Lord  before  thee. 

That  you  may  the  better  underftand  this  ftrange 
hiftory,  I  would  have  you  obferve  a  fev/  things. 

ijR:,  In  the  earlier  ages  of  the  world  it  was  a  very 
common  thing  for  God  to  aflume  fome  vifible  form, 
and  in  it  to  converfe  freely  with  his  fervants.  Of  this 
you  frequently  read  in  the  hiftory  of  the  patriarchs, 
particularly  of  Adam,  Abraham,  Jacob,  &c.  It  is 
alfo  a  tradition  almoft  univerfally  received  in  all  ages, 
and  among  all  nations,  that  God  has  fometimes  ap- 
peared in  a  fenlible  form  to  mortals.  You  can  hardly 
meet  with  one  heathen  writer  but  what  you  will  find 
in  him  fome  traces  of  this  tradition.  Upon  this,  in 
particular,  are  founded  the  many  extravagant  ftories 
of  the  poets  concerning  the  appearances  of  their  gods. 
Had  there  been  no  original  truth  in  fome  appearances 
of  the  true  God  to  men,  there  would  have  been  no 
colour  for  fuch  fables ;  for  they  would  have  evidently 
appeared  groundlefs  and  unnatural  to  every  reader. 
This  tradition  therefore  was  no  doubt  originally  de- 
rived from  the  appearances  of  the  Deity  in  a  corpo- 
real form  in  early  ages.*  Sometimes  God  afTumed 
an  human  fhape,  and  appeared  as  a  man.  Thus  he 
appeared  to  Abraham,  in  company  with  two  angels. 
Gen.  xviii.  and  that  good  patriarch  entertained  them 
with  food  as  travellers  ;  yet  one  of  them  is  repeatedly 
ftiled  the  Lord,  or  Jehovah,  the  incommunicable  name 
of  God;  fee  verfes  13,  20,  22,  26,  &c.  and  fpeaks 
in  a  language  proper  to  him  only,  verfes  14,  21,  &c. 

Sometimes 

*  Thefe  appearances  were  probably  made  in  the  perfon  of  the 
Son,  and  might  be  intended  as  a  prelude  or  earneft  of  his  afTuming 
human  nature,  in  the  fulnefs  of  time,  and  his  dwelling  among  mor- 
tals. He  was  the  immediate  Agent  in  the  creation  of  the  world  j 
and  the  Father  devolved  upon  liim  the  whole  oeconomy  of  Provi- 
dence from  the  beginning  ;  and  hence  he  had  frequent  occafions  to 
appear  on  fame  grand  defign.  Ic  cannot  feem  incredible  that  he 
fhould  thus  afTume  fome  vifible  form,  to  fuch  as  believe  that  God 
was  at  length  really  mamfefied  in  the  flejh  \  for  this  temporary  appa- 
rent  incarnation  cannot  be  deemed  more  ftrange  than  his  really  be- 
jng  made  Jiejh,  and  d<weUing  among  us. 


Serm.  17;  -proclaimed  lyhimfelf.  4.1/j 

Sometimes  he  appeared  as  a  vifible  brightnefs,  or  a 
body  of  light,  or  in  fome  other  fenfible  form  of  ma- 
jefty  and  glory.  Thus  he  was  feen  by  Mofes  in  the 
buih  as  a  burning  fire;  thus  he  attended  the  Ifraelites 
through  the  wildernefs,  in  the  fymbol  of  fire  by  night, 
and  a  cloud  by  day  •,  and  thus  he  often  appeared  in 
the  tabernacle,  and  at  the  dedication  of  Solomon's 
temple,  in  fome  fenfible  form  of  glorious  brightnefs^ 
which  the  Jews  called  the  Schechinah ;  and  looked  upon 
as  a  certain  fymbol  of  the  divine  prefence. 

2dly,  You  are  to  obferve  that  God,  who  is  a  fpirit, 
cannot  be  perceived  by  the  fenfes  \  nor  were  thefe  fen- 
fible forms  intended  to  reprefent  the  divine  ePfence, 
v/hich  is  wholly  immaterial.  You  can  no  more  fee 
God  than  you  can  fee  your  own  foul ;  and  a  bodily 
form  can  no  more  reprefent  his  nature  than  fhape  or 
colour  can  reprefent  a  thought,  or  the  afFeftion  of 
love.     Yet, 

_:^dly.  It  muft  be  allowed  that  majefliic  and  glorious 
emblems,  or  reprefentations  of  God  exhibited  to  the 
fenfes,  may  help  to  raife  our  ideas  of  him.  When  the 
fenfes  and  the  imagination  aflift  the  power  of  pure 
underflandiog,  its  ideas  are  more  lively  ai^  impreffive : 
and  though  no  fenfible  reprefentations  can  bear  any 
ftrid  refemblance  to  the  divine  nature,  yet  they  may 
ftrike  our  minds  deeply,  and  fill  them  with  images  of 
grandeur  and  majefty.  When  I  fee  a  magnificent  pa- 
lace, it  naturally  tends  to  give  me  a  great  idea  of  the 
owner  or  builder.  The  retinue  and  pomp  of  kings, 
their  glittering  prov/ns,  fceptres,  and  other  regalia, 
tend  to  infpire  us  with  ideas  of  majefl:y.  In  like  man- 
ner, thofe  fenfible  reprefentations  of  Deity,  efpecially 
■when  attended  with  fome  rational  defcriptions  of  the 
divine  nature,  may  help  us  to  form  higher  j^pnceptions 
of  the  glory  of  God  :  and  the  want  of  fuch  reprefen- 
tations may  occafion  lefs  reverence  and  awe.  For  in- 
ftance,  had  the  defcription  of  the  Deity,  the  Lord  God 
merciful  and  gracious,  &c.  been  only  fuggefted  to  the 
mind  of  Mofes  as  an  objedl  of  calm  contemplation,  it 

would 


41 6  I'he  Name  of  God  Serm.  1 7. 

would  not  have  ftruck  him  with  fuch  profound  rever- 
ence, nor  given  him  fuch  clear  or  impreffive  ideas  as 
when  it  was  proclaimed  with  a  loud,  majeftic  voice, 
and  attended  with  a  vilible  glory  too  bright  for  mor- 
tal eyes.  Human  narure  is  of  fuch  a  make,  that  it 
cannot  but  be  afteded  with  things  of  this  nature. 

Confidtr  the  matter  well  in  the  light  which  I  have 
fet  it,  and  you  may  fee  fomething  of  the  propriety  and 
good  tendency  of  thefe  appearances,  and  at  the  fame 
time  guard  yourfelves  againft  miftakes.  Let  me  new 
give  you  what  I  apprehend  the  true  hiftory  of  th's  re- 
markable and  illuftrious  appearance  of  God  to  Mofes. 

Mofes  had  enjoyed  frequent  interviews  Vv'ith  God, 
and  ktn  many  fymbols  of  his  prefence  and  reprefenta- 
tions  of  his  glory;  but  he  ftill  finds  his  knowledge  of 
him  very  defective,  and  apprehends  that  God  might 
give  him  fome  reprefentation  of  his  glory  more  ftrik- 
ing  and  illuftrious  than  any  he  had  feen.  Therefore, 
finding  that  now  he  was  in  great  favour  with  him,  he 
humbly  moves  this  petition,  /  hefeech  tkeefieiv  me  thy 
glory  •,  "  give  me  {ome  more  full  and  majeftic  repre- 
fentation of  thy  glory  than  I  have  hitherto  feen."  The 
Lord  anfvvers  him,  ''  I  will  caufe  all  my  goodnefs,*' 
tnat  is,  a  glorious,  vifible  reprefentation  of  my  good- 
nefs, which  is,  "  my  glory,  to  pafs  before  thee,"  which 
may  ftrike  thy  fenfes,  and  make  them  the  medium  of 
conveying  to  thy  mind  more  illuftrious  and  majeftic 
ideas  of  my  glory.  And  as  no  fenfible  forms  can  fully 
reprefent  the  fpiritual  efience  and  perfedions  of  my 
nature,  while  I  caufe  a  vifible  reprefentation  of  my 
glory  to  pafs  before  thee,  I  will  at  the  fam^e  time  pro- 
claim the  name  of  the  Lord,*  and  defcribe  fome  of  the 
principal  perfections  which  conftitute  my  glory  and 

goodnefs. 


t>^ 


*  The  LXX  render  the  pafiage,  I  ivill  callhy  my  name,  the  Lord, 
hefore  thee.  And  this  is  the  molt  literal  tranflaiion  of  the  Hebrew : 
they  are  rendered,  Inclamabo  nominatim  Jehova  ante  faciem  tuam^ 
by  Junius  and  Tremeilius.  According  to  this  veifun  the  fenle 
feems  to  be,  "  When  the  fvmbol  of  my  glory  is  paffing  by,  I  will 
give  thee  notice,  and  call  by  my  name  the  Lord,  that  I  may  no* 
pafs  by  unobferved," 


Serm.  17'  pi-oclaimed  by  himfelf.  417 

goodnefs.  But  fo  bright  will  be  the  luTct-c  of  thr.t  form, 
which  I  fhali  affume,  tliat  thou  art  iiot  able  to  fee  my 
face,  or  the  moft  fplendid  part  of  the  reprefentation  5 
the  glory  is  too  bright  to  be  beheld  by  any  mortal, 
ver.  20.  But  there  is  a  place  in  a  rock.  v/Iiere  thou 
mayeft  wair,  and  I  will  caft  darknefs  over  it  till  tlie 
brighteft  part  of  the  form  of  glory  in  which  I  fliali 
appear  is  paffed  by,  and  then  I  will  open  a  medium 
of  light,  and- thou  fhalt  fee  my  back  parts;,  that  is, 
thcfe  parts  of  the  reprefentation  which  are  lefs  illuilri- 
ous,  and  which  pafs  by  laft:  the  glory  of  thefe  thoti 
fhait  be  enabled  to  bear,  but  my  face  iliall  not  be  fecn/', 
Ver.  2 — 23. 

Thus  God  condefcended  to  promif^^;  and  whett 
matters  were  duly  prepared,  he  performs  his  engage- 
ment. The  Lord  alTumed  a  vifible  form  of  glcry, 
and  pa  [fed  by  before  him,  and  prociai};2cd  bis  nauie,  which 
includes  his  perfe(51:ions.  Tilings  are  known  by  their 
names,  and  God  is  known  by  his  attributes,  therefore 
his  name  includes  his  atti.ibutes.  The  proclamation 
ran  in  this  auguft  ityle,  The  Lord,  the  Lord  God,  mer- 
ciful and  gracious,  lon^-fuffering,  abundant  in  goodnefs 
and  truth,  keeping  mercy  for  thoufands,  forgivitrg  ini- 
quity, tranfgreffion,  and  fin.  Mofes  was  ftruck  with 
reverence  and  admiration,  and  bowed  and  woriLipped. 

My  prefent  defign  is  to  explain  the  feveral  names 
and  perfections  here  afcribed  to  God,  and  fnew  that 
they  all  concur  to  conftitute  his  goodnefs.  For  you 
mull:  obfervc  this  is  the  connection.  Mofes  prays  for 
a  view  of  God's  glory,  God  promifes  him  a  view  of 
his  goodnefs,  which  intimates  that  his  goodnefs  is  his 
glory ;  and  when  he  defcribes  his  goodnefs,  what  is 
the  defcription  .^  It  is  the  Lord,  the  Lord  God,  jnerci- 
ful  and  gracious,  longfuffering,  abundant  in  goodnefs  and 
truth,  keeping^  mercy  for  thoufands,  forgiving  iniquity^ 
H  h  h  tranfgrcff:oi:„ 

*  The  Hebrews  obfcrve,  that  the  iirfl  letter  of  the  word  tranf- 
kted  keeping,  is  iliuch  larger  than  ufual ;  which  flicws  that  a  parti- 
cuhir  emphafis  is  to  be  laid  upon  it ;  as  if  he  fhould  fay,  "  I  moll 
flriftly  and  richly  keep  mercy  for  thoufands ;  the  treafurc  is  immcnfe, 
and  can  never  be  exhauftcd." 


41 S"  ^rhe  Name  of  God  Serm.  17, 

trdufgreffiofi,  and  Jin.  That  thefe  attributes  belong  to 
his  goodnefs  we  eafily  and  naturally  conceive  j  but 
what  Ihall  we  think  of  his  punitive  juftice,  that  awful 
and  tremendous  attribute,  the  objeft  of  terror  and 
averfion  to  finners  ?  Is  that  a  part  of  his  goodnefs 
too  ?  Yes,  when  God  caufes  his  goodnefs  to  pafs  be- 
fore Mofes,  he  proclaims  as  one  part  of  it,  that  he 
will  by  no  means  deer  the  guilty ;  and  that  he  vijits  the 
iniquities  of  the  fathers  upon  the  children  to  the  third  and 
fourth  generation.  This  awful  attribute  is  an  impor- 
tant part  of  his  goodnefs,  and  without  it  he  could  not 
be  good,  amiable,  or  glorious. 

1  am  now  about  to  enter  upon  a  fubjeft  the  moft 
fublime,  augufl:,  and  important,  that  can  come  within 
the  compafs  of  hum.an  or  angelic  minds,  the  name  and 
perfections  of  the  infinite  and  ever-glorious  God.  I 
attempt  it  v/ith  trembling  and  reverence,  and  I  forefee 
I  Ihall  finifli  it  with  fhame  and  confiifion:  for  who  by 
fearching  can  find  out  God  ?  who  can  find  out  the  Almigh- 
ty unto  perfe^ion  ?  Job  xi.  7.  The  queftion  of  Agar 
mortifies  the  pride  of  human  knowledge;  What  is  his 
fiame^  or  what  is  his  fon^s  name^  if  thou  canft  tell?  Prov. 
:(xx.  4.  Such  knowledge  is  too  wonderful  for  me-,  it  is 
high.,  I  cannot  attain  unto  it.  Pfalm  cxxxix.  6.  //  is  as 
high  as  Heaven.,  what  can  I  know?  deeper  than  hell, 
what  can  I  do?  the  meafure  thereof  is  longer  than  the 
earth,  and  broader  than  the  fea.  Job  xi.  8,  9.  Lend 
me  your  {kill,  ye  angels,  who  have  feen  his  face  with- 
out intermifiion  from  the  nrft  moment  of  your  happy 
exigence  •,  or  ye  faints  above,  ths-tfee  him  as  he  is,  and 
know  even  as  you  are  known,  infpire  me  with  your  ex- 
alted ideas,  and  teach  me  your  celeftiai  language,  while 
I  attempt  to  bring  Heaven  down  to  earth,  and  reveal 
its  glories  to  the  eyes  ot  mortals.  In  vain  I  afk ;  their 
knov/ledge  is  incommAinicable  to  the  inhabitants  of 
fiefn,  and  none  but  immortals  can"  learn  the  language 
of  immortality.  But  why  do  I  aflc  of  them  .^  O  thou 
Father  of  angels  and  of  men,  who  canfi  perfeU  thy 
jpraife  even  out  of  the  mouths  of  babes  and  fucklings,  and 

who 


Serm.  17.  proclaimed  hy  himfelf.  419 

who  canfl:  open  all  the  avenues  of  knowledge  and  pour 
thy  glory  upon  created  minds,  do  thou  ihine  into  my 
heart,  to  give  me  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  thy 
glory :  /  befeech  theefbezv  me  thy  glory  •,  caufe  it  to  {Viine 
upon  my  underilanding,  while  I  try  to  difplay  it  to  thy 
people,  that  they  may  behold,  adore,  and  love. 

As  to  you,  my  brethren,  I  folicit  your  mofl  folemii 
and  reverential  attention,  while  I  would  lead  you  into 
the  knowledge  of  the  Lord  vour  Maker.     One  would 
think  a  kind  of  filial  curiofity  would  infpire  you  with 
eager  defires  to  be  acquainted  with  your  divine  Parent 
and  original.     You  would  not  be  willino;  to  v/orfhio 
you  know  not  what,  or,  with  the  Athenians,  adore  an 
unknown  God.     Do  you  not  long  to  know  the  greatefi; 
and  beft  of  beings,  the  glimmerings  of  whofe  glory 
fhine  upon  you  from  Heaven  and  earth  ?    V/ould  you 
not  know  him  in  whofe  prefence  you  hope  to  dv/eli  and 
be  happy  for  ever  and  ever  .^     Come  then,  be  all  awe 
and  attention,  vv^hile  I  proclaim  to  you  his  name  and 
perfections,  l^he  Lord,  the  Lord  God,  merciful  and  gra- 
cious, long-fuffering,  and  abundant  in goodnefs  and  truth; 
keeping  mercy  for  thoufands,  forgiving  iniquity,  tranfgref- 
fion,  and  fin. 

We  may  be  fure  God  has  afTumed  to  himfelf  fuch 
names  as  are  beft  adapted  to  defcribe  his  nature,  as  far 
as  mortal  language  can  reach.  And  every  thing  belong- 
ing to  him  is  fo  dear  and  important,  that  his  very  name 
deferves  a  particular  confideration.  This  is  not  to  make 
empty  criticifms  upon  an  arbitrary,  unmeaning  found, 
but  to  derive  ufefui  knowledge  from  a  word  of  the 
greateft  emphafis  and  fignincancy. 

The  firft  name,  in  the  order  of  tlie  text,  and  \i\  its 
■own  dignity,  is,  the  Lord,  or  Jehovah ;  a  name  here 
twice  repeated,  to  fiiew  its  importance,  the  Lord,  the 
Lord,  or  Jehovah,  Jehovah.  This  is  a  name  peculiar 
to  God,  and  incommunicable  to  the  moft  exalted  crea- 
ture. The  apoftle  tells  us,  'There  are  Gods  many, "  and 
Lords  many,  i  Cor.  viii.  5.  Magiftrates  in  particular 
^re  fo  called;,  becaufe  their  authority  is  fome  fhadow  of 

the 


-;J20  The  Name  of  God  Serm.  ij. 

the  divine  rauhority.  But  the  name  Jehovah,  which 
is  rendered  Lord  in  my  text,  and  in  all  thofe  places  in 
the  Bibie  v;here  it  is  written  in  capitals,  I  fay,  this  name 
Jehovah  is  appropriated  to  the  Supreme  Being,  and 
Jiever  applied  to  any  other.  He  claims  it  to  hirafelf, 
as  his  peculiar  glory.  Thus  in  Pfalm  Ixxxiii.  ver.  i8. 
Tboii^  ivhofe  name  alone  is  Jehovah,  art  the  Mofi  High 
over  all  the  earth.  And  in  Ifaiahxlii.  ver.  8.  lam  the 
Lord^  or  (as  it  is  in  the  original)  Jehovah-,  that  is  my 
name,  my  proper  incommunicable  name,  and  my  glory 
will  I  not  give  to  another  %  that  is,  I  will  not  allov/  ano- 
ther to  diare  with  De  in  the  glory  of  v/earing  this  name. 
Thus  alfo  in  Amos  vi.  ver.  i'^.  Lo^  he  that  formeth  the 
mountains^  and  createth  the  ivind^  that  declareth  to  man 
'what  is  in  his  thoughts,  &c.  the  Lord^  the  God  of  I-Jojis, 
is  his  name,  his  diftin«Hiif[iing,  appropriated  name. 
There  mull;  therefore  be  fomething  pecuharly  facred 
and  fignificant  in  this  name,  fince  it  is  thus  incommu- 
iiicably  appropriated  to  the  only  one  God. 

The  Jews  had  fuch  a  prodigious  veneration  for  this 
name  as  amounted  to  a  fuperftitious  excefs.  They  call 
it  "  That  name,"  by  way  of  difl:in6lion,  "  The  great 
name,  the  glorious  name,  the  appropriated  name,  the 
unutterable  name,  the  expounded  name,"*"  becaufe 
they  never  pronounced  it,  except  in  one  inftance,  which 
I  fhall  mention  prefently,  but  always  expounded  it  by 
fome  other:  thus  when  the  name  Jehovah  occurred  in 
the  Old  Teftament,  they  always  read  it  Adonai,  or 
Elohim,  the  ufual  and  lefs  facred  names,  v^'hich  we  tranf- 
iate  Lord  God.  It  was  never  pronounced  by  the  Jews 
in  reading,  prayer,  or  the  mofi;  folemn  aft  of  wor- 
fliip,  much  lefs  in  common  converfation,  except  once 
a  year,  on  the  great  day  of  atonement,  and  then  only 
by  the  higli  prieft  in  the  fanfruarv,  in  pronouncing 
the  benediAilion-,  but  at  all  other  times,  places  and  cc- 
cafions,  and   to  all  other  pcribns,  the  pronunciation 

was 

*  They  alfo  cliftingiiifn  it  by  the  name  of  the  four  letters  that 
compofed  it,  jodb,  he,  --jau,  he  ;  and  iience  t!;c  Greeks  called  it  th^ 
Jhur ■  lettered  Ihvne.'    See  Bcixtorf. 


Serm.  17.  proclaimed  by  hi mfelf.  421 

was  deemed  unlawful.  The  benedi(5lIon  was  tha* 
which  you  read  in  Numbers  vi.  verfes  24,  25,  26. 
where  the  name  Jehovah  is  thrice  repeated  in  the  He- 
brew, Jekovah  blefs  thee^  and  keep  thee:  Jehovah  make 
his  face  to  /bine  upon  thee^  and  be  gracious  to  thee :  Je- 
hovah lift  up  the  light  of  his  countenance  upon  thee^  and 
give  thee  peace.  When  this  venerable  name  was  pro- 
nouiiced  upon  this  occafion,  we  are  told  by  the  Jewifli 
rabbles,  "  that  all  the  vaft  congregation  then  prefent 
bowed  the  knee,  and  fell  down  in  the  humbleft  prof- 
tration,  crying  out,  BleJJ'ed  be  his  gk?ious  name  for  ever 
and  ever.  They  fuppofsd  this  name  had  a  miraculous 
virtue  in  it,  and  that  by  it  Mofes  and  others. Vv^rought 
fuch  wonders :  nay,  fo  great  was  their  fuperftition, 
that  they  thought  it  a  kind  of  charm  or  magical  word, 
and  that  he  that  had"  it  about  him,  and  knew  its  true 
pronunciation  and  virtue,  could  perform,  the  moil  fur- 
prifino;  things,  and  even  ihake  heaven  and  earth.* 

I  do  not  m.ention  thefe  things  with  approbation, 
but  only  to  fhew  that  there  is  fomething  peculiarly 
figniticant,  important,  and  facred  in  this  name,  from 
whence  the  Tews  took  occafion  for  fuch  extravarant 
notions :  and  this  will  appear  from  its  etymology.  You 
knov\^  it  is  not  my  ufual  method  to  carry  a  great  quan- 
tity of  learned  difquifition  with  me  into  the  pulpit,  or 
to  fpend  your  time  in  trifling,  pedantic  criticifnis  upon 
words,  which  may  in/deed  have  a  ihew  of  literature, 
and  amufe  thofe  who  admire  what  they  do  not  under- 
hand, but  can  anfwer  no  valuable  end  in  a  popular  au- 
dience. However,  at  prefent  I  muft  take  the  liberty 
of  fhev/ing  you  the  original  meaning  of  the  name  Je- 
hovah^ that  I  may  thoroughly  explain  my  text,  and 
that  you  may  know  the  import  of  a  name  that  will 

occur 

*  This  name  feems  not  to  have  been  unknown  among  other  na- 
tions. Hsnce  probably  is  derived  the  mmsjo-jis,  Joue,  ihc  Latin 
name  for  the  kipremc  God.  And  it  is  probably  in  allufion  to  this 
ihat  Varro  fays,  "  Dcum  Judajorum  efie  Jovem."  The  Moors  alfo 
call  God  Jubah,  and  the  Mahometans  iJo;,! ;  which  in  th-ir  iHrsua^e 
fignifics  the  fa.-ne  with  Jehovah,  namely,  He  k\:Jm}  is.  S.c  T' 
^ift.  Vol.  llf.  p.  35;,  note  K 


422  ^he  Name  of  God  Serm.  17/ 

.occur  fo  often  to  you  in  reading  your  bibles  ;  for,  as  I 
told  you,  wherever  you  meet  with  the  word  Lord  in 
large  letters,  it  is  always  Jehovah  in  the  original. 

The  name  Jehovah  is  derived  from  the  Hebrew 
verb,  to  be;  and  therefore  the  meaning  of  the  word 
Jehovah  is,  The  exijient^  the  hei7ig^  or  He  that  is.  Thus 
it  feems  explained  in  Exodus  iii.  ver.  14.  /  am  that 
I am^  or,  "  I  am  becaufe  I  am-,"  that  is,  I  exift,  and 
have  being  in  and  of  rayfelf  v/ithout  dependence  upon 
any  caufe ;  and  my  exigence  or  being  is  always  the 
fame,  unchangeable  and  eternal.  St.  John  well  ex- 
plains this  name  by  the  Who  is,  who  was,  and  who  is 
to  come;  or,  as  the  paflagje  might  be  rendered,  "  The 
prefent  Being,  the  paft  Being,  and  the  future  Being ;'' 
or.  The  Being  that  is,  the  Being  that  was,  and  the 
Being  that  will  be ;  that  is,  the  perpetual,  the  eter- 
nal, and  unchangeable  Being.  I  fhall  only  obferve 
farther,  that  Jehovah  is  not  a  relative,  but  an  abfolute 
name:  there  is  no  pronoun  or  relative  word  that  is 
ever  joined  v/ith  it:  we  can  fay.  My  Lord,  our  Lord, 
our  God,  &c.  but  the  Hebrews  never  fay  or  write. 
My  Jehovah,  our  Jehovah,  &c.  fo  that  this  name 
reprefents  him  as  he  is  in  himfelf,  without  any  rela- 
tion to  his  creatures,  as  he  would  have  been  if  they 
had  never  exiiled.  He  would  ftill  have  been  the  Be- 
ing, the  abfolute,  independent  exiftent,  in  which  view 
he  has  nothing  to  do  with  his  creatures,  and  can  fuf- 
tain  no  relation  to  them. 

From  this  name,  thus  explained,  we  learn  the  fol^ 
lowing  glorious,  incommunicable  perfections  of  God  j 
that  he  is  felf-exiftent  and  independent ;  that  his  be- 
ing is  necefiary  ;  that  he  is  eternalj  and  that  he  is  un- 
changeable. 

While  I  am  about  to  enter  upon  thefe  fubjedls,  I 
feem  to  fland  upon  the  brink  of  an  unbounded,  fa- 
thcmlefs  ocean,  and  tremble  to  launch  into  it ;  but, 
under  the  conduft  of  fcripture  and  humble  reafon,  let 
us  make  the  adventure;  for  it  is  an  happinefs  to  be 
loft  and  fwallowed  up  in  fuch  an  ocean  of  perfection. 

T.  The 


Sci'tn.  ly.  proclaimed  by  himfelf.  42 :^ 

I.  The  name  Jehovah  implies  that  God  is  J^'f- 
exijieni  and  independent.  I  do  not  mean  by  this  th.it 
he  produced  himfelf,  for  that  would  be  a  dired  co  1- 
tradiftion,  and  fuppofe  him  to  exift,  and  not  to  exift 
at  the  fame  time  :  but  I  mean  that  the  reafcn  and 
ground  of  his  exiftence  is  in  his  own  nature,  and  does 
not  at  all  depend  upon  any  thing  befides.  Being  is 
effential  to  him.  He  contains  an  infinite  fulnefs  of 
being  in  himfelf,  and  no  other  being  has  contributed 
in  the  leaft  towards  liis  exiftence ;  and  hence  with 
great  propriety  he  ailumes  that  ftrange  name,  I  am. 
He  is  Being  throughout,  perfedly  and  univerfally 
vital  -,  and  the  reafon  of  this  is  entirely  within  his 
own  nature. 

How  glorious  is  he  diftinguifiied  in  this  refpedl  from 
all  other  beings,  even  the  moft  illuftrious  and  power- 
ful !  Time  was,  when  they  were  nothing.  Angels 
and  archangels,  men  and  beafts,  fun,  moon,  and  ftarsj 
in  fhort,  the  whole  univerfe  befides  were  once  nothing, 
had  no  being  at  all :  and  what  was  the  reafon  that  they 
ever  came  into  being  .^  Certainly  it  was  not  in  them : 
when  they  were  nothing  there  was  no  reafon  at  all  in, 
them  why  they  fhould  ever  be  fomething ;  for  in  not 
being,  there  can  be  no  reafon  or  ground  for  being. 
The  mere  pleafure  of  God,  the  fiat  of  this  felf-exifting 
Jehovah,  is  the  only  reafon  and  fole  caufe  of  their 
exiftence.  If  it  had  not  been  for  him,  they  would 
liave  continued  nothing  as  they  were:  their  being 
therefore  is  entirely  precarious,  dependent,  and  wholly 
proceeds  from  a  caufe  without  themfelves.  But  Je- 
hovah glories  in  an  unborrowed,  underived,  indepen- 
dent being.  Whatever  he  is,  it  is  his  own  ;  he  owes 
it  only  to  himfelf  What  a  glorious  Being  is  this ! 
how  infinitely  different  from  and  fuperior  to  the  whole 
fyftem  of  creatures  !  Are  you  not  already  conftrained 
to  bow  the  knee  before  him,  and  wonder,  adore,  and 
love  ?  But, 

II.  Hence  it  follows  that  his  exiftence  is  necefiary  ; 
that  is,  it  is  impoffiblc  for  him  not  to  be.     His  being 

does 


4^4  ^he  Na'mS  of  God  Serm.  ly: 

doe?  not  depend  upon  any  thing  without  him,  nor 
does  it  depend  upon  his  own  arbitrary  will,  but  it  is 
efiential  to  his  nature.  That  he  ihould  not  be  is  as 
great  an  impoflibility  as  that  two  and  two  ihould  not 
make  four.  It  is  impOiTible  that  any  thing  fhoiild  be 
more  clofcly  conne6i:ed  with  any  thing  than  being  is 
with  his  eflence,  and  it  is  impoffible  any  thing  ihould 
be  more  oppofite  to  any  thing  than  he  is  to  non-exift- 
ence.  Since  he  received  his  being  from  nothing  with- 
out himfeif,  and  fince  the  reafon  of  his  exigence  Is  not 
derived  from  any  other,  it  follows,  that  uivlefs  he  exifls 
by  the  necefilty  of  his  own  nature,  he  muft  exift  with- 
out any  neceility ;  that  is,  without  any  reafon  at  al],- 
which  is  the  ilime  as  to  fay  that  nothing  is  tlit  caufe 
or  ground  of  his  exiftence  -,  and  what  imagination  can 
be  more  abfurd  ?  His  bemg  therefore  muil  exift  by 
an  abfolute,  independent  neceiTicv- 

What  a  glorious  Being  is  this  '  hov/  infinitely  dif- 
tant  from  nothing,  or  a  polfibility  of  not  beinoj !  What 
an  unbounded  fund  of  exiftence,  v/hat  an  immenfe 
ocean  of  Being  is  here !  Alas  !  what  are  v/e,  what  is 
the  whole  univerfe  befides  in  this  coraparifon?  They 
are  iiothing^  lefs  than  nothiiig^  and  vanity.  Our  being 
is  not  only  derived  but  arbitrary,  depending  entirely 
upon  the  mere  pleafure  of  Jehovah.  There  was  no 
neceflity  from  our  nature  that  we  ihould  be  at  all ;  and 
now  there  is  no  neceifitv  that  we  fnould  continue  to  Z'^. 
If  we  exiit,  it  is  not  owing  to  us.  "  He  made  us, 
and  not  we  ourfelves-,"  and  if  we  iliall  contmue  to  be 
ior  ever,  it  is  not  owing  to  a  fund  of  being  within 
ourfelves,  but  to  the  fame  God  who  firft  formed  us. 
It  is  but  lately  iince  we  fprung  from  nothing,  and 
how  near  are  we  {till  to  the  confines  of  nothinc  !  We 
hang  over  the  dreadful  gulph  of  annihilation  by  a  {len- 
der thread  of  being  fuftained  by  the  felf-originated 
Jehovah.  Remove  him,  take  away  his  agency,  and 
univerfal  nature  iinks  into  nothing  at  once,  l^ake 
away  the  root,  and  the  branches  wither:  dry  up  the 
fountain,   and  the  fcreams  ceafe.      If  any  of  you  are 

fuch 


S«rm.  17.  proclaimed  by  himjelf.  425 

fuch  fools  as  to  wifh  in  your  hearts  there  were  no  Godj 
you  imprecate  annihilation  upon  the  wliole  iiniverfe ; 
you  wiih  total  deftrudion  to  yourfeif  and  every  thing 
elfe  v  you  wifh  the  extindion  of  all  being.  All  depend 
upon  God,  the  uncaufed  caufc,  the  only  necefi'ary 
Being.  Sufi'erme  here  to  make  a  digrenion.  Is  this 
tlie  God  whom  the  daring  fons  of  men  lb  much  forget, 
diihonour,  and  difobey?  Are  they  fo  entirely  depen- 
dent upon  him,  and  yet  carelefs  hov/  they  behave  to- 
wards him,  carelefs  whether  they  love  and  pleafe  him  ? 
Do  they  owe  their  Being  and  their  all  entirely  to  him  ? 
And  are  they  wholly  in  his  hand  ?  What  then  do  they 
mean  by  withholding  their  thoughts  and  affecflions  from 
him,  breaking  his  laws  and  neglecting  his  gofpei  ? 
Can  you  find  a  name  for  fuch  a  conduce  ?  Would  it 
not  be  entirely  incredible  did  we  not  fee  it  with  our 
eyes  all  around  us  ?  Sinners,  what  m.ean  you  by  this 
condu6t  ?  Let  the  infant  rend  the  womb  that  conceived 
it,  or  tear  the  breafcs  that  cherifh  it-,  go,  poifon  or 
deftroy  the  bread  that  fhould  feed  you ;  dry  up  the 
flreams  that  fliould  allay  your  thirfi  •,  ftop  the  breath 
that  keeps  you  in  life :  do  thefe  things,  or  do  any 
thing,  but  O  !  do  not  forget,  difobey,  and  provoke 
the  very  Father  of  your  being,  to  whom  you  owe  it 
that  you  are  not  as  much  nothing  now  as  you  were  ten 
thoufand  years  ago,  and  on  Vv'hom  you  depend,  not 
only  for  this  and  that  mercy,  but  for  your  very  being, 
every  moment  of  your  exiftence,  in  time  and  eternity. 
He  can  do  very  well  without  you,  but  O  what  are  you 
without  him  !  a  ilream  without  a  fountain,  a  branch 
without  a  root,  an  efted  without  a  caufe,  a  mere  blank, 
a  nothing.  He  indeed  is  felf-fufScient  and  felf-exiflent. 
It  is  nothing  to  him,  as  to  his  exiflence,  whether  cre- 
ation exifts  or  not.  Let  men  and  angels,  and  every 
creature  fink  to  nothing,  from  whence  they  came,  his 
being  is  ftill  fecure:  he  enjoys  an  unprecarious  being 
of  his  own,  neceflarily,  unchangeably,  and  eternally 
cxiflent.  Men  and  angels  bow  the  knee,  fall  prollrate 
and  adore  before  this  Being  of  beings.  How  mean 
I  i  i  are 


izS  '  The  Name  of  God  Serm.  17/ 

are  you  in  his  prefence  !  what  poor,  arbitrary,  depen- 
dent, perifning  creatures  !  what  fhadows  of  exigence ! 
what  mere  nothings !  And  is  it  not  at  you  (hould 
humbly  acknowledge  it  ?  Can  there  be  any  thing  more 
unnatural,  any  thing  more  foolifh,  any  thing  more  au- 
dacioufly  wicked,  than  to  negleft  or  contemn  fuch  a 
Being,  the  Being  of  beings,  the  Being  thut  includes 
all  being?  I  can  hardly  bear  up  under  the  horror  of 
the  thought. 

III.  The  name  Jehovah  implies  that  God  is  eter- 
nal ;  that  i§,  he  always  was,  is,  and  ever  will  be.  From 
^verlafting  to  everlafting  he  is  God.  Pfalm  xc.  2.  This 
is  his  grand  peculiar,  hs  only  hath  immortality.,  2  Tim. 
vi.  16.  in  a  full  and  abfolute  fenfe.  Men  and  angels 
indeed  are  immortal,  but  it  is  but  a  kind  of  half-eter- 
nity they  enjoy.  They  once  were  nothing,  and  con- 
tinued in  that  ftate  through  an  eternal  duration.  But 
as  Jehovah  never  will  have  an  end,  fo  he  never  had  a 
-beginning.  This  follows  from  his  necefiary  feif-exift- 
ence.  If  the  reafon  of  his  exiftence  be  in  himfelf, 
then  unlefs  he  always  exifted  he  never  could  exift,  for 
nothing  without  himfelf  could  caufe  him  tj  exift.  And 
if  he  exifts  by  abfolute  neceiTity,  he  muft  always  exift, 
for  abfolute  neceffity  is  always  the  fame,  without  any 
3'elation  to  time  or  place.  Therefore  he  always  was, 
and  ever  will  be. 

And  what  a  wonderful  Being  is  this  !  a  Being  un- 
begun, and  that  can  never  have  an  end!  a  Being  pof- 
fefied  of  a  complete,  entire  eternity.  Here,  my  bre- 
thren, let  your  thoughts  take  wing,  and  fiy  backward 
and  forward,  and  fee  if  you  can  trace  his  exiftence. 
Fly  back  in  thought  about  fix  thoufand  years,  and  all 
Jiature,  as  far  as  appears  to  us,  was  a  mere  blank  ;  no 
heaven  nor  earth,  no  men  nor  angels.  But  ftill  the 
great  Eternal  lived,  lived  alone,  felf-fufficient  and  felf- 
happy.  Fly  forward  in  thought  as  far  as  the  confla- 
gration, and  you  will  fee  the  heavens  dijfohing^  and  the 
earth  and  the  things  that  are  therein  burnt  up  :  but  ftill 
Jehovah  lives  unchangeable,  and  abfolutely  indepen- 
dent. 


Serm.  17.  pronlamed  by  himfdf.  427 

dent.  Exert  all  the  powers  of  number,  add  centuries 
to  centuries,  thcufands  to  thoufands,  miHIons  to  mil- 
lions, fly  back,  back,  back  as  far  as  thought  can  pof- 
iibly  carry  you,  ftiil  Jehovah  exiftsj  nay^  you  are  even 
then  as  far  from  the  firft  moment  of  his  exiftence  as 
you  are  now,  or  ever  can  be.  Take  the  fame  profpeft 
before  you,  and  you  will  find  the  King  eternal  and  im- 
mortal ftill  the  fame;  he  is  then  no  nearer  an  end  than 
at  the  creation,  or  millions  of  ages  before  it. 

What  a  glorious  Being  is  this !  Here  again,  let 
men  and  angels,  and  all  the  offspring  of  time  bov,'  the 
knee  and  adore.  Let  them  lofe  themfelvea  in  this  ocean, 
and  fpend  their  eternity  in  extatic  admiration  and  love 
of  this  eternal  Jehovah. 

O  !  what  a  glorious  portion  is  he  to  his  people  ! 
Your  earthly  enjoym.ents  may  pafs  av^ay  like  a  fhadow ; 
your  friends  die,  yourfelves  muft  die,  and  heaven  and 
earth  may  vanifh  like  a  dream,  but  your  God  lives  ! 
he  lives  for  ever,  to  give  you  an  happinefs  equal  to 
your  immortal  duration.  Therefore,  MeJJed,  ble£id  is 
I  he  people  -whofe  God  is  the  Lord! 

But  O  !  let  finners,  let  wicked  men  and  devils  trem- 
ble before  him,  for  hov/  dreadful  an  enemy  is  an  eter- 
nal God!  He  lives  for  ever  to  punifh  you.  He  lives 
for  ever  to  hate  your  fin,  to  refent  your  rebellion,  and 
to  difplay  his  juftice  ;  and  while  he  lives  you  mufi:  be 
miferable.  What  a  difmal  fituation  are  you  in,  v;hen 
the  eternal  exifuence  of  Jehovah  is  aninexhaufiiible  fund 
of  terror  to  you  !  O  hov/  have  you  inverted  the  order 
of  things,  when  you  have  m.ade  it  your  interefi:  that 
the  Fountain  of  being  fhould  ceafe  to  be,  and  that 
with  him  yourfelves  and  all  other  creatures  fhould  va- 
nifn  into  nothing !  What  a  malignant  thing  is  fin, 
that  makes  exiftcnce  acurfe,  and  univerfal  annihilation 
a  blefiing !  What  a  flrange  region  is  hfll,  where  be- 
ing, fo  fweet  in  itfelf,  and  the  capacity  of  all  enjoy- 
ments, is  become  the  nioft  Intolerable  burden,  and 
every  wifh  is  an  imprecation  of  univerfal  annihilation  ! 
Sinners,  you  have  now  time  to  confider  thefe  miferies 

and 


4^Q  Tbe  Name  of  God  .Serm.  i;/. ' 

find  avoid  them,  and  will  you  be  To  fenfelefs  and  fool- 
hardy as  to  rufh  headlong  into  tliem  ?  O  !  if  you  were 
but  fenfible  what  will  be  the  confequences  of  your  con- 
dui5l  in  a  few  yaars,  you  would  not  need  perfuafions 
to  reform  it:  but  O  the  fatal  blindnefs  and  ftupidity 
of  mortals,  who  will  not  be  convinced  of  thefe  things 
till  the  convicftion  be  too  late  I 

IV.  The  name  Jehovah  implies  that  God  is  un^ 
phangeable,  or  always  the  fame.  If  he  exifts  neceffa- 
rily,  he  muft  always  neceffarily  be  what  he  is,  and  can- 
not be  any  thing  elfe.  He  is  dependent  upon  none, 
and  therefore  he  can  be  fubjecl  to  no  change  from  ano- 
ther ;  and  he  is  infinitely  perfed,  and  therefore  cannot 
defire  to  change  himfelf.  So  that  he  muft  be  always 
the  fame  tJirough  all  duration,  from  eternity  to  eterni- 
ty; the  fame  not  only  as  to  his  being,  but  as  to  his 
perfedions  ;  the  fame  in  power,  wifdom,  goodnefs, 
juftice,  and  happinefs.  Thus  he  reprefents  himfelf  in 
Jiis  word,  as  the  Father  of  lights^  with  whom  there  is 
no  variablenefs^  nor  fhadow  of  turning,  James  i.  ij.  the 
fame  yejlerday,  to-day,  and  for  ever.  Heb.  xiii.  8.— 
What  a  diflinguilhing  perfe6lion  is  this  I  and  indeed 
it  is  in  Jehovah  only  that  immutability  can  be  a  per- 
fe(5lion.  The  moft  excellent  creature  is  'capable  of 
progreilive  improvements,  and  (eems  intended  for  it ; 
and  to  fix  fuch  a  creature  at  firft  in  an  immutable  ftate, 
would  be  to  limit  and  reftrain  it  from  higher  degrees 
of  perfedion,  and  keep  it  always  in  a  ftate  of  infancy. 
But  Jehovah  is  ahfoluteiy,  completely,  and  infinitely 
perfect,  at  the  higheft  fummit  of  all  poifible  excellen- 
cy, infinitely  beyond  any  addition  to  his  perfedion, 
and  abfolutely  incapable  of  improvement  -,  and  confe- 
quently  as  there  is  no  room  for,  fo  there  is  no  need  of 
a  change  in  him;  aiid  his  immutability  is  a  perpetual, 
invariable  continuance  in  the  higheft  degree  of  excel- 
lency,  and  therefore  the  higheft  perfedion.  He  is  the 
caufe  dnd  the  fpedator  of  an  endlefs  variety  of  changes 
in  the  univerfe,  v/ithout  the  leaft  change  in  himfelf. 
YIq  fees  worlds  fpringing  into  being,  exifting  a  while, 

and 


Serm.  17.  proclaimed  hy  himfelf.  42^ 

and  then  diflblving.  He  fees  kingdoms  and  empires 
forming,  rifing,  and  rufhlng  headlong  to  ruin.  He 
changes  the  times  and  the  feafons  •,  removeth  kings^  and 
he  fetteth  up  kings,  Dan.  ii.  21.  and  he  fees  the  fickle- 
nefs  and  viciffitudes  of  mortals  -,  he  fees  generations 
upon  generations  vanifhing  like  fucceffive  fhadows ; 
he  fees  them  now  wife,  now  fooliih;  now  in  purfuit 
of  one  thing,  nov/ of  another  •,  now  happy,  now  mi- 
ferable,  and  in  a  thoufand  different  forms.  He  fees 
the  revolutions  in  nature,  the  fucceffions  of  the  fea- 
fons, and  of  night  and  day.  Thefe  and  a  thoufand 
other  alterations  he  beholds,  and  they  are  all  produc- 
ed or  permitted  by  his  all-ruling  Providence  \  but  all 
thefe  make  no  change  in  him  ^  his  being,  his  perfec- 
tions, his  counfels,  and  his  happinefs  are  invariably 
and  eternally  the  fame.  He  is  not  wife,  good,  juft, 
or  happy  only  at  times,  but  he  is  equally,  fteadily, 
and  immutably  fo  through  the  whoJe  of  his  infinite 
duration.  O  how  unlike  the  fleeting  offspring  of  time, 
and  efpecially  the  changing  race  of  man  ! 

Since  Jehovah  is  thus  conftant  and  unchangeable, 
how  worthy  is  he  to  be  chofen  as  our  beft  friend !  You 
that  love  him  need  fear  no  change  in  him.  They  are 
not  fmall  matters  that  will  turn  his  heart  from  you : 
his  love  is  fixed  with  judgment,  and  he  never  will  fee 
reafon  to  reverfe  it:  it  is  not  a  transient  fit  of  fondnefs, 
but  it  is  deliberate,  calm,  and  fl:eady.  You  may  fafe- 
ly  truft  your  all  in  his  hands,  for  he  cannot  deceive 
you;  and  whatever  or  whoever  fail  you.  he  will  not. 
You  live  in  a  fickle,  uncertain  world  •,  your  beft  friends 
may  prove  treacherous  or  cool  towards  you;  all  your 
earthly  comforts  may  wither  and  die  around  you  ;  yea, 
heaven  and  earth  may  pafs  away  -,  but  your  God  is  ilill 
the  fame.  He  has  aflured  you  of  it  vv'ith  his  own 
mouth,  and  pointed  out  to  you  tlie  happy  confequence 
of  it,  /  am  the  Lord  Jehovah,  fays  he,  /  change  not ; 
therefore  ye  Jons  of  Jacob  are  not  confiimsd.  Mai.  iii.  6. 

V/hat  a  complete  happinefs  is  this  Jehovah  to  thofe 
\xhp  have  chofen  him  for  their  portion !    If  an  infinite 

God 


'430         God's  Na7ne proclaimed  hy  hifnjelf.     Serm.  17/ 

God  is  now  fufRcient  to  fatisfy  your  utmoft  defires, 
he  will  be  fo  to  all  eternity.  He  is  an  ocean  of  com- 
municative happinefs  that  never  ebbs  or  flows,  and 
therefore  completely  bleffed  will  you  ever  be  who  have 
anintereft  in  him. 

But  O  !  how  miferable  are  they  who  are  the  enemies 
of  this  Jehovah !  Sinners,  he  is  unchangeable,  and  can 
never  lay  afide  his  refentments  againft  lin,  or  abate  in 
the  leaft  degree  in  his  love  of  virtue  and  holinefs.  He 
will  never  recede  from  his  purpofe  to  punilh  impeni- 
tent rebels,  nor  loofe  his  power  to  accomplifh  it.  His 
hatred  of  all  moral  evil  is  not  a  tranfient  pallion,  but  a 
fixed,  invariable,  deep-rooted  hatred.  Therefore,  if 
ever  you  be  happy,  there  muft  be  a  change  in  you. 
As  you  are  fo  oppolite  to  him,  there  muft  be  an  altera- 
tion in  the  one  or  the  other:  you  fee  it  cannot  be  in 
him,  and  therefore  it  muft  be  in  you;  and  this  you 
ought  to  labour  for  above  all  other  things.  Let  us 
then  have  grace,  whereby  we  may  ferve  God  acceptably 
with  reverence  and  godly  fcar^  for  our  God  is  a  confum- 
ing  fire  (Heb.  xii.  28,  29.)  to  his  impenitent  and  im- 
placable enemies.* 

*  Our  author  has  evidencly  not  finifhed  his  fubjcft,  and  I  do  not 
find  ic  profscuted  in  any  of  the  difcourfes  that  are  come  to  my  hands ; 
but  yet  I  determined  to  publifh  the  Sermon,  not  only  for  its  own 
{if  I  millake  not)  fubluntial  worth,  but  the  rather  as  the  Sermon 
that  next  follows  in  order  may  be  conddered  as  a  profecution,  if  not 
a  completion  of  the  great  and  glorious  fubjeft  he  has  undertaken, 
particularly  of  his  profsll'ud  defign  in  this  Sermon,  "  of  explaining 
the  feveral  perfeclions  here  afcribcd  to  Gcd,  and  Ihewing  that  they 
all  concur  to  conliitute  his  goodnefs." 

The  Editor, 


SERMON 


SERMON     XVIIL 

God  is  Love. 


I  John  iv.  8.     God  is  Love. 

LOVE  is  a  gentle,  pleafing  theme,  the  nobleft  paf- 
fion  of  the  human  breaft,  and  the  faireft  orna- 
ment of  the  rational  nature.  Love  is  the  cement  of 
fcciety,  and  the  fource  of  fecial  happinefs;  and  v/ith- 
out  it  the  great  community  of  the  rational  univerfe 
would  diflblve,  and  men  and  angels  v^'ould  turn  favages, 
and  roam  apart  in  barbarous  folitude.  Love  is  the 
fpring  of  every  pleafure  ;  for  v/ho  could  take  pleafure 
in  tho.  pofleffion  of  what  he  does  not  love !  Love  is  the 
foundation  of  religion  and  morality  ;  for  what  is  more 
monftrous  than  religion  without  love  to  that  Gcd  who 
is  the  objed  of  it !  Or  who  can  perform  fecial  duties 
without  feeling  the  endearments  of  thofe  relations  to 
which  they  belong  !  Love  is  the  fcftener  and  polijfher 
of  human  minds,  and  transforms  barbarians  into  men  : 
its  pleafures  are  refined  and  delicate,  and  even  its  pains 
and  anxieties  have  fomething  in  them  foothing  and 
pleafing.  In  a  word,  love  is  the  brighteft  beam  of 
divinity  that  has  ever  irradiated  the  creation ;  the 
nearell  refemblancc  to  the  ever-bleiTed  God ;  for  God 
is  Love. 

God  is  love.  There  is  an  unfathomable  depth  in  this 
concife  laconic  fentence,  which  even  the  penetration 
of  an  angel's  mind  cannot  reach  ;  an  ineffable  excel- 
lence, which  even  celeftial  eloquence  cannot  fully  re- 
prefent.  God  is  love  -,  not  only  lovely  and  loving,  but 
love  itfelf ;  pure,  unmixed  love,  nothing  but  love; 
love  in  his  nature  and  in  his  operations  i  the  obje(5l, 
fource,  and  quinteffence  of  all  love. 

My 


432  God  is  Love.   '  Serm.  iS.' 

My  prefent  defign  is  to  recommend  the  Deity  to 
your  affections  under  the  amiable  idea  of  Love,  and 
for  that  end  to  fhew  that  his  other  perfections  are  but 
various  modifications  of  love. 

I.  Love  comprehends  the  various  forms  of  divine 
beneficence.  Goodnefs,  that  extends  its  bounties  to 
innumerable  ranks  of  creatures,  and  diffufes  happinefs 
through  the  various  regions  of  the  univerfe,  except 
that  which  is  kt  apart  for  the  dreadful,  but  falutary 
and  benevolent  purpofe  of  confining  and  punifhing  in- 
corrigible malefadors ;  Grace,  which  fo  richly  fhowers 
its  blefiings  upon  the  undeferving,  without  pail  merit 
of  the  profpedl  of  future  compenfation  ;  Mercy,  that 
commiferates  and  relieves  the  m'ferable  as  well  as  the 
undeferving  -,  Patience  and  Long-fufFeri ng,  v/hich  io 
long  tolerate  infolent  and  provoking  offenders  ;  what 
is  all  this  beneficence  in  all  thefe  its  different  forms 
towards  different  objeds,  what  but  Love  under  vari- 
ous names  ?  It  is  gracious,  merciful,  patient  and 
long-fuifering  love  1  love  variegated,  overflowing,  and 
unbounded  !  what  but  love  was  the  Creator  of  fuch  a 
world  as  this,  fo  well  accommodated,  fo  richly  furnifh- 
cd  for  the  fuftenance  and  comfort  of  its  inhabitants  ? 
and  what  but  love  has  planted  it  fo  thick  with  an  end- 
lefs  variety  of  beings,  all  capable  of  recei-ving  fome 
ftream  of  happinefs  from  that  immenfe  fountain  of  It, 
the  divine  goodnefs  ?  Is  it  not  love  that  preferves 
fuch  an  huge  unwieldy  world  as  this  in  order  and  har- 
mony from  age  to  age,  and  fupplies  all  its  numerous 
inhabitants  with  every  good  ?  and  O  !  was  it  not  love, 
free,  rich,  unmerited  love,  that  provided  a  Saviour  for 
the  guilty  children  of  men  ?  It  was  becaufe  God  lov- 
ed the  worlds  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  San^  that 
ivhofoever  believeih  in  him  Jhould  not  perijh,  but  have 
everlafiingUfe!  Johniii.  16.  O  love  I  what  hafl  thou 
done  !  what  wonders  haft  thou  wrought !  It  was  thou, 
almighty  love,  that  broughteft  down  the  Lord  of  glory 
from  his  celeftial  throne  to  die  upon  a  crofs  an  atoning 
facrifice  for  the  fins  of  the  world.    And  what  but  love 

is. 


Serm.  iS.  God  is  Love.  433 

is  it  that  peoples  the  heavenly  world  with  colonies 
tranfplanted  from  this  rebellious  province  of  Jehovah's 
dominions  >  that  forms  fuch  miracles  of  glory  and  hap- 
pinefs  out  of  the  duft,  and  the  fhattered  polluted  frag- 
ments of  human  nature !  and  v/hat  but  eternal  love 
perpetuates  their  blifs  through  an  eternal  duration  ?  but 
it  is  fo  evident,  that  thefe  indances  df  divine  goodnefs 
are  only  the  efFeiSls  of  love,  that  it  is  needlefs  to  at- 
tempt any  farther  illuftration. 

II.  What  is  divine  wifdom  but  a  modification  of 
divine  love,  planning  the  bed:  adapted  fchemes  for 
communicating  itfelf  in  the  moil  advantageous,  bene- 
ficient,  and  honourable  manner,  fo  as  to  promote  the 
good  of  the  great  whole  or  colledlive  fydem  of  crea- 
tures by  the  happlnefs  of  individuals ;  or  to  render 
the  punifhment  and  mifery  of  individuals,  which  for 
important  reafons  of  ftate  may  be  fometimes  necefTary 
in  a  good  government,  fubfervlent  to  the  fame  benevo- 
lent end  ?  Whatever  traces  of  divine  wifdom  v/e  fee 
in  creation;  as  the  order  and  harmony  of  the  great 
fyfhem  of  nature.  Its  rich  and  various  furniture,  and 
the  confplracy  of  all  its  parts  to  produce  the  good  of 
each  other  and  the  whole ;  whatever  divine  wifdom 
appears  in  conducing  the  great  fcheme  of  Providence 
through  the  various  ages  of  time;  or  in  the  morea- 
ftonifning  and  godlike  work  of  redemption  :  in  a  word, 
whatever  difplays  of  divine  wifdom  appear  in  any  part 
of  the  univerfe,  they  are  only  the  fignatures  of  divine 
love.  Why  v/as  yonder  fun  fixed  where  he  is,  and  en- 
riched v/ith  fuch  extenPiVe  vital  influences,  but  becaufe 
divine  love  faw  it  v/as  bed  and  mou:  conducive  to  the 
good  of  the  fyflem?  Why  were  cur  bodies  fo  won- 
derfully and  fearfully  made,  and  all  their  parts  fo  well 
fitted  for  afcion  and  enjoyment,  but  becaufc  divine 
love  drew  the  plan,  and  flampedits  own  amiable  image 
upon  them  ?  Why  was  the  manifold  wifdom  of  God 
difplayed,  not  only  to  mortals,  but  alfo  to  angelic 
principalities  and  powers  J  Ephef.  iii.  10.  in  the  fcheme 
of  redemption,  which  advances  at  once  the  honours 

K  k  k  of 


434  ^^^  ^^  Love.  Serm.  i  T. 

of  the  divine  perfedlions  and  government,  and  the 
happlnefs  of  rebellious  and  ruined  creatures,  by  an  ex- 
pedient which  nothing  but  infinite  wifdom  could  ever 
devife  the  incarnation,  the  obedience,  and  paffion  of 
tn^  co-equal  fon  of  God  ?  Why,  I  fay,  but  becaufe 
divine  love  would  othervvife  be  under  reftraint,  and 
incapable  of  giving  full  fcope  to  its  kind  propenfions 
in  a  manner  honourable 'to  itielf  and  conducive  to  the 
public  good  ?  In  fliort,  divine  wifdom  appears  to  be 
nothing  elfe  but  the  fagacity  of  love,  to  difcover  ways 
and  means  to  exercife  itfeif  to  the  greateil  advantage; 
or,  which  is  the  fame,  divine  wifdom  always  afts  un- 
der the  benign  determination  and  condudt  of  love:  it 
is  the  counfellor  of  love  to  project  fchemes  fubfervient 
to  its  gracious  purpofes;  and  in  all  its  councils  love 
prefidcs. 

III.  What  is  divine  povv'er  but  t?ie  omnipotence  of 
love  ?  Why  did  omnipotence  exert  itfeif  in  the  pro- 
duction of  this  vaft  amazing  world  out  of  nothing  ? 
It  was  to  open  a  channel  in  which  the  overflowing  ocean 
of  love  might  extend  itfeif,  and  difFufe  its  ftreams 
from  creature  to  creature,  upwards  as  high  as  the  moft 
exalted  archangel,  and  downwards  as  lov/  as  the  mean- 
eft  vital  particle  of  being,  and  extenfive  as  the  remoteft 
limits  of  the  univerfe,  and  all  the  innumerable  interme- 
diate ranks  of  exiftences  in  the  endlefs  chain  of  nature. 
And  why  does  divine  power  fcill  fupport  this  prodigi- 
ous frame,  but  to  keep  the  channel  of  love  open  Irom 
age  to  age  ?  and  for  this  purpofe  it  v/ill  be  exerted  to 
all  eternity.  Perhaps  I  fhould  affift  your  ideas  of  Di- 
vine Power,  if  I  fiiould  call  it  the  adling  hand,  the 
inftrument,  the  fervant  of  love,  to  perform  its  orders, 
and  execute  its  gracious  defigns. 

IV.  Whatis  theholinefsof  Godbutlove  ?  Pure,  re- 
fined, and  honourable  love.  What  is  it  but  the  love  of 
excellence,  recftitude,  and  moral  goodnefs?  Holinefs, 
in  its  ov.n  nature,  has  a  tendency  to  promote  the  hap- 
pinefs  of  the  univerfe  :  it  is  the  health,  the  good  con- 
llitution  of  a  reafonable  being;  without  which  it  has 

no 


Serm.  i8.  God  is  Love.  435 

110  capacity  of  relifhing  thofe  enjoyments  which  are  fuit- 
ableto  its  nature.  It  is  no  arbitrary  mandate  of  heaven 
that  has  eftabhfhed  the  infeperable  connecftion  betv/een 
hollnefs  and  happinefs,  between  vice  and  mifery.  The 
connexion  is  as  neceffary,  as  immutable,  and  as  much 
foi^nded  in  the  nature  of  things,  as  that  between  health 
of  body  and  a  capacity  of  animal  enjoyments,  or  be- 
fvittn  licknefs  and  a  difrelifh  for  the  moft  agreeable 
food.  Everv  creature  in  the  univerfe,  as  far  as  he  is 
holy  is  happv ;  and  as  for  as  he  is  unholy  he  is  miferable. 
Therefore,  by  how  much  the  more  holy  Jehovah  is, 
by  fo  much  the  more  fit  he  is  to  com.m.unicate  happi- 
nefs to  all  that  enjoy  him-,  and  confequently  he  is  an 
infinite  happinefs,  for  he  is  infinitely  holy.  His  tak- 
ing fo  much  care  to  pro-m.ote  holinefs  is  but  taking  care 
of  the  public  good.  The  ftrift  exadlions  of  his  law, 
which  contains  every  ingredient  of  the  mofl  perfed: 
holinefs,  and  admits  of  no  dlfperifation,  are  but  ftricf?: 
injunctions  to  his  fubjedls  to  purfue  that  courfe  which 
infallibly  leads  them  to  the  moftconfummate  happinefs ; 
and  every  abatement  in  his  demands  of  obedience 
would  be  a  licence  to  them  to  dedud  fo  much  from 
their  happinefs,  and  render  themfelves  fo  far  mifera- 
ble with  his  confent.  That  mitigation  of  the  rigor  of 
his  law,  which  fome  imagine  he  has  made  to  bring  it 
down  to  a  lewd,  with  the  abilities  of  degenerate  crea- 
tures, difabled  by  their  voluntary  Vv^ickedncfs,  would 
no  more  contribute  to  their  felicity  than  the  allowing 
a  fick  man  to  gratify  his  vitiated  tafte  by  mixing  a  lit- 
tle deadly  poifon  in  his  food  would  contribute  to  the 
recovery  of  his  health,  or  the  prefervation  of  his  life. 
The  penal  fandions  of  the  divine  law  are  but  friend- 
ly warnings  againil:  danger  and  mifery,  and  honeft 
admonitions  of  the  deftrudtive  confequences  of  fin,  ac- 
cording to  the  unchangeable  nature  of  things ;  they 
are  threatenings  which  difcover  no  malignity  or  ill- 
nature,  as  finners  are  apt  to  imagine,  but  the  infinite 
benevolence  of  the  heart  of  God :  threatenings  which 
are  not  primarily  and  unconditionally  intended  to  be 

executed. 


43^  God  is  Loz-e.  Serm.  i8. 

'  executed,  but  to  prevent  all  occafion  of  their  being 
executed,  by  preventing  fin,  the  natural  fource,  as 
Vvell  as  the  meritorious  caufe  of  every  mifery  :  thrcat- 
enings  vi'hich  are  not  executed,  but  as  the  only  expe- 
dient left  in  a  defpe'rate  cafe,  v/hcn  all  other  nieans 
have  been  ufed  in  vain,  and  no  other  method  can  fe- 
cure  the  public  good,  or  render  a  worthlefs  criminal 
a  "jeJJ'el  ofivrath  fined  for  deftru£tion^  and  fit  for  nothing 
€\{q;  of  no  other  fervice  to  the  great  community  of 
rational  beings.  Thefe  are  fome  of  the  ingredients 
and  difplays  of  the  holinefs  of  God :  and  v/hat  are  thefe 
but  fo  many  exertions  of  pure  love  and  benevolence  ? 
It  is  becaufe  he  loves  his  creatures  fo  much  that  he 
requires  them  to  be  fo  holy  •,  and  that  very  thing,  againft 
which  there  are  io  many  cavils  and  objedions,  as  too 
ievere  and  opprefiive,  and  a  rigid  reftraint  from  the 
purfuit  of  pleafure,  is  the  higheft  infl:ance  of  the  love 
of  God  for  them,  and  his  regard  for  their  happinefs. 

Let  me  therefore  commence  advocate  for  God  with 
my  fellow-men,  though  it  ftrikes  me  with  horror  to 
think  there  fhould  be  any  occafion  for  it.  Ye  children 
pf  the  mofl:  tender  Father,  ye  fubjefts  of  the  mofl:  gra- 
cious r.nd  righteous  Sovereign,  ye  beneficiaries  of  di- 
vine love,  why  do  you  harbour  hard  thoughts  of  him  ? 
Is  it  becaufe  his  laws  are  fo  flrift,  and  tolerate  you  in 
no  guilty  pleafure  }  This  appointment  is  the  kind  re- 
ftraint of  love  :  the  love  of  fo  good  a  being  will  not 
allow  him  todifpenfe  with  your  obfervance  of  any  thing 
that  may  contribute  to  your  improvement  and  advan- 
tage, nor  indulge  you  in  any  thing  that  is  in  its  own 
nature  deadly  and  defi;ru6tive,  no  more  than  a  father 
will  faffer  a  fovouritc  child  to  play  with  a  viper,  or  a 
good  government  permit  a  miadman  to  run  at  large 
armed  v/ith  weapons  to  defi;roy  himfelf  and  others. 
Do  you  think  hard  of  God  becaufe  he  hates  all  moral 
evil  to  fuch  a  degree,  that  he  has  annexed  to  it  cver- 
lafiiing  mifery  of  the  moft  exquifite  kind  ?  But  V/hat 
is  this  but  an  expreffion  of  his  infinite  hatred  to  every 
thing  that  is  hurtful  to  his  creatures,  and  his  infinite 

regard 


Serm.  i8.  God  is  Love^  /^^y 

regard  to  whatever  tends  to  their  benefit  ?  Or  has  he 
been  too  rigid  in  exa(5ling  holinefs  as  a  necefiary  pre- 
requifite  to  the  happinefs  of  heaven?  You  may  as 
well  complain  of  the  conftitution  of  nature,  that  ren- 
ders abftinence  from  poifon  neceflary  to  the  preferva- 
tion  of  health,  or  that  does  not  allow  you  to  quench 
your  thirft  in  a  fever  with  cold  v/ater.  Let  me  remind 
you  once  more,  that  holinefs  is  effential  to  the  happi- 
nefs of  heaven,  and  that  without  it  you  labour  under 
a  moral  incapacity  of  enjoyment  -,  and  a  moral  incapa- 
city will  as  inevitably  deprive  you  of  the  pleafures  of 
enjoyment  as  if  it  were  natural.  While  unholy,  you 
can  nq  more  be  happy  even  in  the  region  of  happinefs 
than  a  ftone  can  enjoy  the  pleafures  of  animal  life,  or 
a  mere  animal  thofe  of  reafon.  "  But  why,"  you  will 
perhaps  murmur  and  objed,  "  why  has  God  formed 
fuch  an  heaven  as  cannot  beuniverfally  enjoyed  ?  Why 
has  he  not  provided  an  happinefs  for  every  tafte  ?" 
You  may  as  well  afjc  why  he  has  not  created  a  light 
that  would  be  equally  agreeable  to  every  eye ;  to  the 
mole  and  the  owl,  as  well  as  to  man  and  the  eagle  ? 
Or  why  has  he  not  formed  light  with  all  the  properties 
of  darknefs ;  that  is,  why  has  he  not  performed  con- 
tradidions  ?  You  may  as  well  query,  why  has  he  not 
given  us  equal  capacities  of  enjoyment  in  ficknefs  and 
in  health,  and  furnifhed  us  with  equal  pleafures  in  both  ? 
I  tell  you  that,  in  the  nature  of  things,  the  low  and 
impure  pleafures  which  would  fuit  the  depraved  tafle 
of  the  wicked,  would  be  naufeous  and  painful  to  pure 
minds  refined  and  fandlified-,  and  they  cannot  mingle, 
they  cannot  approach  each  other  without  being  deftroy- 
ed.  The  element  of  water  may  as  well  be  converted 
into  a  fit  refidence  for  the  inhabitants  of  dry  land,  and 
yet  retain  all  its  properties  that  are  fuitable  to  its  pre- 
fent  natives-,  or  the  folid  earth  become  a  fit  receptacle 
for  fifnes,  and  yet  both  it  and  the  fifhes  retain  their 
ufual  qualities.  In  fhort,  m.en,  beafts,  birds,  fifhes, 
infeds,  angels,  devils,  the  inhabitants  of  every  zone 
and  climate,  of  every  planet,  or  any  other  region  of 

the 


438  God  is  Love.  Sei-m.  iSv 

the  umverfe,  may  as  well  form  one  focicty  in  one  and 
the  fame  place,  and  mingle  their  refpeflive  food  and 
pleafures,  as  an  heaven  of  happinefs  be  prepared  that 
would  fuit  every  tafte.  God  has  prepared  the  only 
kind  of  heaven  that  is  in  its  own  nature  pQlTible;  the 
only  one  that  would  be  an  expreffion  of  love,  or  afford 
real  and  extenftve  happinefs  to  fuch  of  his  creatures  as 
are  capable  of  it.  The  heaven  of  finners  would  be 
a  nuifancc  to  all  other  beings  in  the  univerfe;  a  private 
good  only  to  malefadors,  at  the  expence  of  the  pub- 
lic •,  an  open  reward  of  wickednefs,  and  a  public  dif- 
countenancing  of  all  moral  goodnefs.  This  would  be 
the  cafe  upon  the  fuppofition  that  the  heaven  of  finners 
were  poffible.  But  the  fuppofition  is  infinitely  abfurd; 
it  is  as  impoOible  as  the  pleafures  of  ficknefs,  the  {tn- 
iibihty  of  a  flone,  or  the  meridian  fplendors  of  mid- 
night. 

Therefore  acknowledge,  admire,  and  love  the  beau- 
ty of  the  Lord,  his  holinefj.  Give  thanks.,  fays  the 
Pfalmiil,  at  the  remembrance  of  his  holinefs.,  Pfalm  xcvii. 
1 2.  of  his  holinefs,  as  well  as  of  his  goodnefs  and  love  ; 
for  it  is  the  brightefl  modification  of  his  love  and  good- 
nefs. An  unholy  being,  in  the  charafter  of  fupreme 
magiftrate  of  the  univerfe,  cannot  be  all  love,  or  com- 
municate nothing  but  what  is  pleafing  to  all ;  nay,  as 
far  as  he  is  unholy  he  muft  have  a  malignant  difpofi- 
tion  towards  the  public  happinefs,  and  be  effentially 
deficient  in  benevolence. 

V.  What  is  the  juftice,  even  the  punitive  juftice  of 
God,  but  a  modification  of  love  and  goodnefs  ! 

As  there  is  no  divine  perfedion  which  appears  fo 
terrible  to  offenders  as  this,  which  therefore  they  toil 
and  fweat  to  difapprove  or  explain  away,  I  fhall  dwell 
the  longer  upon  it.  And  I  hope  to  convince  you  that 
juitice  is  not  that  grim,  ftern,  tremendous  attribute 
which  is  delineated  by  the  guilty  partial  imagination  of 
finners,  who  have  made  it  their  intereft  that  there 
fhould  be  no  fuch  attribute  in  Deity,  but  that  it  is  in- 
finite amiable  and  lovely,  as  well  as  awful  and  majefiic; 
nay,  that  it  is  love  and  benevolence  iti^lu  By 


Senn.  iS".  God  is  Love.  ^-^^^ 

By  the  punitive  juftice  of  God,  I  meaii  that  perfec- 
tion of  his  nature  which  executes  the  fentence  of  his 
law  upon  offenders,  or  inflidls  upon  them  the  punifb- 
ment  he  had  threatened  to  difobedience,  exactly  ac- 
cording to  his  own  denunciation.  The  prefent  world, 
which  is  a  flate  of  trial  and  difcioline,  and  not  of  final 
rewards  and  punifhments,  is  not  the  proper  theatre  of 
vindidlive  juftice,  but  of  a  promifcuous  piovidence; 
vf//  things  come  alike  to  all^  and  no  man  can  kiiow  the 
love  or  hatred  of  the  Ruler  of  tlie  world  towards  him, 
by  all  that  is  before  him.  Ecclef.  ix.  i,  2.  Yet  fome- 
times,  even  in  this  life,  juftice  arrefts  the  guilty,  and 
difplays  its  illuftrious  terrors  upon  them,  efpeciaily 
upon  guilty  nations  that  have  no  exiftence  in  a  national 
capacity  in  the  eternal  world,  and  therefore  can  be 
punillied  in  that  capacity  in  this  only.  It  was  vindic- 
tive juftice  that  deluged  the  v/hole  world  in  a  fiood  of 
vengeance !  that  kindled  the  flames  of  Sodom  and 
Gomorrah  ;  and  that  cut  off  the  nations  of  Canaan 
when  tliey  had  filled  up  the  meofure  of  their  iniquities. 
It  is  juftice  that  arms  kingdoms  from  age  to  age,  and 
makes  them  the  executioners  of  divine  wrath  upon  one 
another,  while  they  are  gratifying  their  own  ambition, 
avarice,  or  revenge.  The  devaftations  of  earthquakes, 
inundations,  plagues,  epidemical  fickneffes,  flimines, 
and  the  various  calamities  in  which  mankind  haye  been 
involved,  are  fo  many  difplays  of  divine  juftice;  and 
their  being  brought  on  the  world  according  to  the 
courfc  of  nature,  and  by  nieans  of  fecondary  caufes, 
will  by  no  means  prove  that  they  are  not  fo,  but  only 
that  the  very  make  and  conftitution  of  this  world  are 
fo  planned  and  formed  by  divine  wlfdom  as.  to  admit  of 
the  execution  of  juftice  at  proper  periods,  and  that  all 
its  parts  are  the  inftruments  of  juftice  to  accomplifti 
its  defigns.  But  thefe  and  all  the  other  judgments  of 
Heaven  upon  our  world  are  only  preludes  and  fpeci- 
mens  of  the  moft  perfed:  adminiftration  of  it  in  a  fu- 
ture ftate.  There  the  penalty  of  the  law  will  be  exe- 
cuted upon  impenitent  offendeis  with  the  utmoft  im- 
partiality. 


44-0  God  is  Love.  Serm.  i8. 

partiality.  And  Revelation  affures  us  that  the  punifti- 
ment  will  be  endlefs  in  duration,  and  of  as  exquifite  a 
kind  and  high  degree  as  the  utmoft  capacity  of  the  fub- 
je<5ts  will  admit ;  and  confequently  that  it  will  not,  like 
fatherly  chaftifements,  have  any  tendency  to  their  re- 
formation or  advantage,  but  to  their  entire  and  ever- 
lafting  deil:ru6lion.  Now  it  is  this  difplay  of  punitive 
juftice  that  appears  fo  terrible  and  cruel  to  the  guilty 
children  of  menj  and  therefore  this  is  what  I  fhall 
principally  endeavour  to  vindicate  and  to  clothe  with 
all  the  gentle  and  amiable  glories  of  Love  and  public 
Benevolence. 

For  this  end  I  beg  you  would  confider,  that  what- 
ever has  a  tendency  to  prevent  fin  tends  to  prevent 
mifery  alfo,  and  to  promote  the  happinefs  of  the  world 
and  of  all  the  individuals  in  it ;  that  good  laws  are 
abfolutely  neceflary  for  the  prevention  of  fin^  that 
penal  fandtions  are  effential  to  good  laws  ;  and  that  the 
execution  of  the  penal  fandions  upon  offenders  is  abfo- 
lutely neceflary  to  their  efficacy  and  good  tendency  ; 
and  confequently  the  execution  of  them  is  a  difplay  of 
love  and  benevolence. 

Confider  alfo,  that  many  are  excited  to  feek  ever- 
lafting  happinefs,  and  deterred  from  the  v/ays  that 
lead  down  to  deftrudtion,  by  means  of  the  threatenings 
of  the  law  ;  that  even  thofe  on  whom  they  are  finally 
executed  Vv'ere  once  in  a  capacity  of  receiving  immortal 
advantage  from  them,  but  defeated  their  good  in- 
fluence and  tendency  by  their  own  wilful  obflinacy  : 
and  that  the  righteous  execution  of  thefe  threatenings 
upon  the  incorrigible,  may  promote  the  common  good 
of  the  univerfe. 

Confider  farther,  that  criminals  are  incompetent 
judges  of  vindictive  juftice,  becaufe  they  arc  parties  ; 
and  therefore  we  iTiould  not  form  an  eflimate  of  it  by 
their  prejudices,  but  from  the  judgment  of  the  dif- 
interefled  and  impartial  part  of  the  creation. 

Finally  confider,  that  proceedings  fimilar  to  thofe  of 
the  divine  government,  are  not  only  approved  of  as 

jufl 


Scrm.  18.  God  is  Love.  441 

jaft  in  all  human  governments,  but  alfo  loved  and  ad- 
mired as  amiable  and  praifcworthy,  and  eflential  to 
the  goodnels  and  benevolence  of  a  ruler. 

Let  us  briefly  illuftrate  thefe  feveral  clafTes  of  pro- 
pofitions. 

I.  "  Whatever  has  a  tendency  to  prevent  fin,  tends 
to  prevent  mifery  alio,  and  to  promote  the  happinefs 
of  the  univerfe  and  of  all  the  individuals  in  it:  good 
Jaws  are  abfolutely  neceflary  for  the  prevention  01  fin  : 
penal  fandions  are  efTential  to  good  lav^'s  •,  and  the  fea- 
fonable  execution  of  thofe  fanftions  is  abfolutely  necef- 
fary  to  their  eflicacy  and  good  tendency  -,  and  confe- 
quently  the  execution  of  them  is  a  difplay  of  love  and 
benevolence." 

"  Whatever  has  a  tendency  to  prevent  fin,  tends  to 
prevent  mifery  alfo,"  and  that  for  this  reafcn,  becaufe 
fin  is  neceflarily  productive  of  mifery,  and  dePa-u(5iive 
of  happinefs.  Can  a  rational  creature  be  happy  that  is 
difafFeded  to  the  fupreme  good,  the  only  fource  of 
that  kind  of  happinefs  which  is  adapted  to  a  rational 
nature.''  This  is  as  impofiible  as  that  you  fhould  enjoy 
animal  pleafures  while  you  abhor  all  animal  enjoyments. 
Can  a  focial  creature  be  happy  in  eternal  folitude,  or 
in  a  ftate  of  fociety,  Vv'hile  ill-afted-ed  tovv'ards  the 
other  members  of  fociety,  or  while  they  are  ill-affeft- 
ed  towards  him  and  he  to  them,  hateful^  and  hating 
one  another?  Can  a  creature,  formed  capable  of  feli- 
city fuperior  to  what  any  good  can  communicate,  be 
happy  in  the  eager  purfuit  of  bubbles  ^  that  is,  cf  it55 
highefh  happinefs  in  inferior  enjoyments  .^  All  thofe 
difpofitions  of  heart,  and  the  pradices  refulting  from 
them,  in  which  fin  confifts,  enmity  to  God,  uneafy 
murmurings  and  infurredions  againft  his  perfedions, 
and  the  government  of  his  law  and  Providence;  a 
ehurliih,  malignant,  envious  temper  towards  mankind; 
an  anxious,  exceffive  eagernefs  of  defire  after  vain, 
unfatisfadory  enjoyments  ;  a  difrelidi  for  the  exalted 
pleafures  of  hollnefs  and  benevolence;  what  are  thefe 
and  the  like  difpofitions,   but  (o  many  ingredients  of 

I.  1  1  mifery. 


44 2  God  is  Love.  Serm.  i®. 

mirerj',  and  fo  many  abatements  of  happinefs  ?  and 
confequcndy  all  meafures  that  are  taken  for  the  pre- 
vention of  fin  are  fo  many  benevolent  expedients  for 
the  prevention  of  mifery  and  the  increafe  of  happinefs. 
I  add,  "  Good  laws  are  abfolutely  neceffary  for  the 
prevention  of  fin."  Indeed  thofe  difpofitions  and  ac- 
tions which  are  finful  and  forbidden  by  the  divine  law 
would  be  of  a  deadly  nature  to  the  foul  even  if  they 
were  not  forbidden,  as  a  ll:ab  to  the  heart  would 
prove  mortal  to  the  body,  although  there  v/ere  no  laws 
againft  it,  and  for  that  very  reafon  laws  have  been 
made  againft  it.     Therefore  the  laws  of  God  do  not 

O 

properly  conflitute  the  dellru^live  nature  of  (in,  but 
only  point  out  and  warn  us  againft  what  is  deftrudive 
in  its  own  nature  previous  to  all  explicit  law.  And  is 
it  not  abfolutely  neceilary,  and  an  ad:  of  the  highefl: 
benevolence,  that  the  fupreme  Lawgiver  fhould  warn 
us  againft  this  pernicious  evil,  and  plainly  inform  us 
what  it  is  ?  This  is  the  defign  of  his  laws  both  natural 
and  revealed.  And  without  them,  what  fure  inflruc- 
tor,  what  unerring  guide,  or  what  ftrong  inducements 
to  a  proper  conducft  could  we  have  in  this  moft  im- 
portant cafe?  Is  it  not  necePfary,  is  it  not  kind,  that 
the  fupreme  Legiflator  fliould  interpofe  his  authority, 
and  lay  us  under  the  ftrongefl:  obligation  to  avoid  our 
own  ruin  ?  And  if  good  laws  are  neceffary,  fo  are 
penal  fandions  ;  for,  "  penal  fandions  are  efTential  to 
good  laws."  Taws  without  penalties  would  be  only 
the  advices  of  an  equal  or  an  inferior,  and  not  the 
obligatory  commands  of  authority.  They  might  be 
obferved  or  not,  according  to  pleafure,  and  confe- 
quently  v/culd  anfwer  no  valuable  purpofe.  They 
woud  alfo  be  infinitely  abfurd  in  their  own  nature  j 
for  if  v/hat  the  law  enjoins  be  reafonable,  neceflary, 
nnd  of  good  tendency,  is  it  not  neceffary  and  fit  that 
they  who  do  not  deferve  it  fliould  feel  the  bad  effeds 
of  their  omilTxOn  ?  And  what  is  this  but  a  penalty  ? 
But  on  a  point  fo  plain  I  need  not  multiply  words  ; 
I  appeal  to  the  common  fenfe  of  mankind,  I  appeal 

to 


Serm.  iS.  God  is  Lo~je.  44.^ 

to  the  univerfal  pradlice  of  all  governments.  Have 
there  ever  been,  or  can  there  poflibly  be  any  laws 
v/ithout  penal  fan6lions  ?  would  not  fuch  laws  be  cx- 
pofed  to  perpetual  inlult  and  contempt,  and  be  defti- 
tute  of  all  force  and  energy?  The  common  fenfe  and 
univerfal  pradice  of  all  tlie  world,  in  all  ages,  remon- 
ftrate  againft  fuch  an  abfurdity.  But  if  penal  fan^Hons 
are  eiTential  to  good  laws,  then  fo  is  their  execution ; 


for, 


"  The  fcafonable  execution  of  penal  fanftion*;  is  ab- 
folutely  neceffary  to  their  efficacy  and  good  tendency." 
Penalties   denounced  can  have  no    efficacy   upon    the 
fubjeds  of  the  law  •,  that  is,  they  cannot  excite   fear, 
and  by  that  means  deter  them  from  difobedience,  un- 
lefs  they  are  believed,    and  their   execution  expedled. 
But  they  would  foon  ceafe  to  be  believed,  and  their 
execution  would  no  longer  be  expeded,  if  in  fsveral 
inftances  they  ffiould  be  difpenfed  v/ith,  and  a  fucceffion 
of  finners  ffiould  pafs  v;ith  impunity.     Other  (inner?, 
judging  of  future  events  by  paft  fads,   would  expert 
the  fame  indulgence,  and  therefore  venture  upon  dif- 
obedience without  any  reftraint   from  the  penalty  of 
the  law.     Here  again  I  fhall   bring  the  matter  to   a 
quick  decifion,  by  appealing  to  the  common  reafbn  and 
univerfal  pra6tice  of  m^ankind.     Would  human  lav/s 
have  any  force  it  the  penalty  was  hung  upas  an  empty 
terror  and  never  executed  ?    Would  not  fuch  lav^s  be 
liable  to  perpetual  violation  and   infult,  and  become 
the  fport  of  daring  offenders  ?  Would  not  the  efcapes 
of  former  offenders  encourage  all  future  generations  to 
give  themfelves  a-loofe,  in  hopes  of  the  fame  exemp- 
tion ?  Is  it  not  neceilary  in  all  governments  that  pub- 
lic juftice  fhould  make  examples   of  fome,   to  warn 
and  deter  others?   Have  not  all  nations,  efpecially  the 
more  civilized,  made  fuch  examples  ?   And  have  not 
ail  the  impartial  world  commended  their  proceedings 
as  neceflary  to  the  fafety  and  happinefs  of  fociety,  and 
expreffive  of  their  regard  to  the  public  good  ? 

View  all  thefe  things  together,  and  methinks  I  may 

bid 


444  Godii  Love.  Serm.  i8. 

bid  defiance  to  common  fenfe  to  draw  any  other  con- 

clufion  tlian  that  the  juilice  of  God  in  executing  the 
penalties  of  his  law  upon  impenitent  offenders,  is  the 
height  of  goodnefs  and  love.  If  love  requires  that  all 
proper  expedients  be  ufed  for  the  prevention  of  fin; 
if  good  laws  are  neceflary  for  this  end  i  if  penalties 
are  efTential  to  good  laws  \  and  if  the  feafonable  execu- 
tion of  penalties  be  abfolutely  neceflary  to  give  them 
their  benevolent  force  and  good  tendency,  does  it  not 
unavoidably  follov/,  that  love  itfelf  requires  both  the 
enacting  of  penal  fanflions  to  the  law  of  God,  and  the 
execution  of  them  upon  proper  fubjecfls  ?  Without  this 
wholefome  feverity,  the  divine  lav/s  would  be  lefs  fe- 
cure  from  contempt,  and  the  divine  government  would 
be  lefs  favourable  to  the  peace  and  happinefs  of  the 
fubjecfls  than  the  laws  and  governments  of  mortals  in 
all  civilized  nations. 

"  But  why  does  the  penalty  rife  fo  high  ?  Why  is 
the  execution  lengthened  out  through  everlafling  ages  ? 
Why  might  not  a  gentler  punifhm.ent  fufScer"  This 
is  the  grand  objeclion;  and  in  fuch  language  as  this 
the  enmity  of  the  rebellious  heart  againft  the  juflice  of 
God  generally  expreffes  itfelf.  But  if  the  original  de- 
fign  and  natural  tendency  of  the  threatened  penalty 
be  to  prevent  fm,  then  by  how  much  feverer  the  pe- 
nalty, by  fo  much  the  more  effedlual  tendency  has  it 
to  anfwer  this  kind  defign  ?  No  punifhments  can  rife 
higher  than  thofe  which  a  righteous  God  has  annexed 
to  difobedience,  the  natural  fource  of  every  mifery ; 
and  v/hat  is  this  but  to  fay  that  no  methods  more  ef- 
fcdlual  can  be  taken  to  prevent  it  than  what  he  has  ac- 
tually taken  ?  We  may  therefore  infer  the  ardor  of  the 
love  of  God  from  the  terror  of  his  threatenings.  Ke 
has  denounced  the  grcateft  mifery  againft  fui,  in  order 
to  rcfirain  his  creatures  from  running  into  that  very 
mifery  ;  and  threatens  the  lofs  of  heaven,  in  order  to 
prevent  his  creatures  from  lofing  it. 

I   mufl  alfo   here  repeat  the  common  argum.ent, 
which  appears  to  me  as  valid  as  common  j  "  that  as 

the 


Serm.  i8.  God  is  Love.  445 

the  efTencc  of  fin  confifts  in  the  breach  of  an  obligation, 
the  evil  of  fin  muft  be  exa6lly  proportioned  to  the 
ftrength  of  the  obligation;"  that  as  we  are  undoubt- 
edly under  infinite  obligations  to  a  God  of  infinitg  ex- 
cellency, our  Maker,  Ruler,  and  BenefaClor,  the  evil 
of  fin,  v/hich  violates  thofe  obligations,  muft  be  infi- 
nite alfo ;  and  that  no  punifliment  fnort  of  what  is  in- 
finite can  be  adequate  to  the  demerit  of  an  infinite  evii; 
and  confequently  finners  ought  to  fufter  a  finite  puniih- 
ment  through  an  infinite  duration,  becaufe  that  is  the 
only  way  in  which  they  are  able  to  bear  an  infinite 
punifiiment.  Bat  on  this  common  topic  a  fev/  hints 
may  fufiice. 

I  proceed  to  the  next  fet  of  propofitions. 

II.  "  That  many  are  excited  to  thepurfuit  of  ever- 
lafting  happinefs,  and  deterred  from  the  ways  of  dc- 
ftrucftion,  by  means  of  threatenings  of  the  divine  law  ; 
that  even  thofe  unhappy  creatures  on  whom  they  are 
finally  executed  v/ere  once  in  a  capacity  of  receiving 
immortal  advantage  from  them,  but  defeated  their 
good  influence  and  tendency  by  their  own  wilful  ob- 
ftinacy ;  and  that  the  righteous  execution  of  thefe 
threatenings  upon  the  incorrigible  may  promote  the 
common  good  of  the  univerfe." 

"  Pvlany  are  excited  to  the  purfuit  of  everlafting  hap- 
pinefs, and  deterred  from  the  ways  of  deftru6lion,  by 
means  of  the  threatenings  of  the  divine  law."  I  appeal 
to  experience  and  obfervation,  whether  the  terrors  of 
the  Lord  are  not  the  very  firft  thing  that  gives  a  check 
to  finners  in  their  headlong  career  to  ruin  .^  It  is  ths 
la-:jo  that  worketh  wrathy  Rom.  iv.  15.  that  is,  an  a- 
larming  apprehenfion  of  the  wrath  of  God  againft  fin, 
and  conftrains  them  to  ufe  the  inftituted  means  of  de- 
liverance. Thus  even  the  terrors  of  the  law  are  made 
fubfervient  to  divine  love,  in  turning  finmrs  from  the 
error  of  their  way^  and  faving  fouls  from  death.  Aiid 
could  we  confult  the  glorious  afi^embly  of  the  fpirits  of 
juft  men  made  perfec^t,  they  would  all  own  that  if  their 
heavenly  Father  had  not  threatened  them  fo  fevercly, 

they 


44^'  God  is  Love.  Serm.  i8. 

they  would  alvv'ays  have  continued  undutiful,  and  con- 
fequently  rendered  themfelves  miferable  ;  and  that  they 
were  faved  from  hell  by  being  honeftly  warned  of  the 
danger  of  falling  into  it.  Iz  is  true  there  are  multi- 
tudes who  do  not  receive  this  advantage  by  the  penal 
fandions  of  the  divine  law,  but  are  made  miferable  for 
ever  by  the  execution  of  them ;  yet  it  may  be  added, 

"  That  even  thofe  unhappy  creatures  on  whom  they 
are  executed,  were  once  in  a  capacity  of  receiving  infi- 
nite advantage  from  them,  but  defeated  their  good  in- 
fluence and  tendency  in  their  own  wilful  obftinacy." 
The  threatenings  of  the  divine  law  had  the  fime  good 
tendency  in  their  own  nature  with  refpeft  to  them,  to 
deter  them  from  difobedience  and  urge  their  purfuit 
of  happinefs,  as  with  refpet^  to  others-,  and  thefe  were 
fome  of  the  means  God  appointed  'for  their  falvation. 
But  they  hardened  themfelves  againft  them,  and  thus 
defeated  their  good  tendency,  and  obftinately  ruined 
themfelves  in  defiance  of  warning:  they  even  forced  a 
paflage  into  the  infernal  pit  through  the  flrongeft  en- 
clofures.  But  if  they  had  not  been  thus  warned,  they 
not  only  would  not  have  been  faved  iti  the  event,  but 
they  would  not  have  enjoyed  the  means  of  falvation. 
Now  their  enjoying  thefe  means  was  in  itfelf  an  inex- 
prefTible  bleiTing,  though  in  the  ifTue  it  only  aggravates 
their  mifery  -,  and  confequcntly  the  enabling  thofe  pe- 
nalties to  the  divine  law  was  really  an  ad  of  kindnefs 
even  to  them ;  and  their  abufe  of  the  blefling  does  not 
alter  its  nature.  The  primary  and  direftend  of  a  pe- 
nalty is  not  the  punifhment  of  the  fubjeds,  but  to  re- 
flrain  them  from  things  injurious  to  themfelves  and 
others,  and  urge  them  to  purfue  their  own  interefl. 
But  when  this  good  end  is  not  anfwered,  by  reafon  of 
their  wilful  foiiy  and  difobedience,  then,  and  not  till 
then,  the  execution  is  neceffary  for  the  good  of  others  i* 
which  leads  me  to  add, 

"  That 

*  Penalties  operate,  like  final  caufes,  by  a  kind  of  retrofpedive 
influence;  tliat  is,  whilll  they  are  only  threatened,  and  the  fubjeft 
expefts  they  will  be  executed,  ihould  he  turn  difob»dicnt,  they  have 


Serm.  iS.  God  is  Loz'e.  447 

"  That  the  righteous  execution  of  the  threatened 
penalty  upon  the  incorrigible  may  promote  the  com- 
mon good  of  the  univerfe."  This  world  of  ours  is  a 
public  theatre,  furrounded  with  numerous  fpecftators, 
who  are  interefted  in  its  affi\Irs.  Angels  in  particular, 
are  witneflcs  of  the  proceedings  of  Providence  towards 
mankind,  and  thence  learn  the  perfecflions  of  God,  and 
the  max-'ms  of  his  government.  Hell  is  alfo  a  region 
dreadfully  confpicuous  to  them,  and  there,  no  doubt, 
the  offended  Judge  intends  to  mew  his  wrath,  and 
make  his  power  known  to  them  as  well  as  to  mankind. 
Now  i\\ty  are  held  in  obedience  by  rational  motives, 
and  not  by  any  mechanical  compulfion.  And,  among 
other  motives  of  a  gentler  kind,  no  doubt  this  is  one 
of  no  fmall  weight ;  namely,  their  obferving  the  de- 
ftruiftive  confequences  of  fin  upon  men  and  angels,  and 
the  terrible  difpleafure  of  God  againft  it.  It  is  not  at 
all  inconfiftent  with  their  dignity  and  purity  to  fuppofe 
them  fwayed  by  this  motive  in  a  proper  connection 
"witli  others  of  a  more  difinterefted  and  generous  nature. 

Therefore  the  confirmation  of  the  eleft  angels  in  holi- 

.  .  .  .        ^ 

nefs,  and  their  everlafling  happinefs,  is  no  doubt  not  a 

little  fecured  and  promoted  by  the  execution  of  righte- 
ous punifhment  upon  fome  notorious  hardened  male- 
fadors,  both  of  their  own  order  and  of  the  hum.an  race. 
The  fame  thing  may  be  faid  of  the  fpirits  of  juji  men 
made  ■per fe^  \  they  are  happily  incapable  of  finning, 
and  consequently  of  becoming  miferable;  but  their  in- 
capacity arifes  from  the  clear  convidion  of  their  under- 
ftanding,  which  has  the  condud  of  their  will;  and, 

while 

a  pou'erful  tendency  to  deter  him  from  dilbbedience.  But  they  could 
not  have  this  benevolent  tendency,  unlefs  they  he  executed  upon 
thofe,  on  whom  their  primary  and  cliief  defign  is  not  obtained; 
namely,  the  retraining  of  them  from  fin.  Ir  is  enough  that  the  of- 
fenders themfelves  once  had  an  opportunity  of  taking  warning,  and 
reaping  the  advantage  of  the  threatened  penalt",  while  they  were  in 
a  ftate  of  trial,  and  candidates  for  eternity.  But  it  is  abfurd  that 
they  fhould  receive  any  benefit  from  it,  when,  after  fufHcient  trial, 
it  appears  they  will  take  no  warning,  but  are  refolved  to  perfill  ia 
fin,  in  defiance  of  the  molt  treniecdwus  penalties. 


44^  God  is  Love.  Serm.  18/ 

while  fin  appears  to  them  fo  deadly  and  deftrudive  an 
evil,  it  is  impofliblc,  according  to  the  make  of  a  ra- 
tional nature,  that  they  fhould  choofe  it.  But  the  con- 
fequences  of  fin  upon  the  wretched  creatures  on  whom 
the  penalty  denounced  againft  it  is  executed,  is  no 
doubt  one  thing  that  affords  them  this  convidlion; 
and  fo  it  contributes  to  their  perfeverance  in  obedience 
and  happinefs.  Thus  the  joys  of  heaven  are  fecured 
by  the  pains  of  hell,  and  even  the  mod  noxious  cri- 
minrJs,  the  enemies  of  God  and  his  creatures,  are  not 
ufelefs  in  the  univerfe,  but  anfwer  the  terrible  but  be- 
nevolent end  of  warning  all  other  creatures  againft 
difobedience ;  which  would  involve  them  in  the  fame 
miiery,  juf!:  as  the  execution  of  a  few  malefaftors  in 
human  governments  is  of  extenfive  fervice  to  the  reft 
of  the  fubjeds. 

But  as  the  greater  part  of  mankind  perijfh,  It  may 
'be  queried,  "  How  is  it  confiftent  with  love  and  good- 
nefs,  that  the  majority  fhould  be  punifhed  and  made 
monuments  of  juftice,  for  the  benefit  of  the  fmaller 
number  ?"  To  this  I  reply,  that  though  it  be  equally 
evident  from  fcripture  and  obfervation,  that  the  greater 
part  of  mankind  go  down  to  deftrudion  in  the  fmooth, 
broad,  defcending  road  of  fin,  in  the  ordinary  ages  of 
the  world ;  and  though  revelation  afilires  us  that  the 
number  of  the  apoftate  angels  is  very  great,  yet  I  think 
we  have  no  reafon  to  conclude  that  the  greater  part  of 
the  rational  creation  fhall  be  miferable;  nay,  it  is  pof- 
fible  the  number  of  thofe  on  whom  the  penalty  of  the 
divine  law  is  infiided,  may  bear  no  more  proportion 
to  that  of  the  innumerable  ranks  of  creatures  that  may 
be  retained  in  obedience  and  happinefs  by  means  of 
their  confpicuous  and  exemplary  punifiiment,  than  the 
number  of  criminals  executed  in  our  governiTiSnt  for 
the  warning  of  others  bears  to  the  reft  of  the  fabjecls. 
If  we  confider  that  thofe  who  have  been  redeemed  from 
the  eartl\  even  in  the  ordinary  ages  of  the  world, 
though  comparatively  but  few,  yet  abfolutely  are  a 
multitude  which  no  man  can  number^  aui  of  every  kin- 
dred. 


Serm.  i8.  God  is  Love.  449 

dred^  and  people^  and  language.  Rev.  vili.  9.  and  that 
the  eleft  angels  are  an  innumerable  company.*  Heb.  xii. 
22.  perhaps  much  greater  than  the  legioiis  of  hell;  if 
to  thefe  we  add  the  prodigious  numbers  that  iliall  be 
converted  in  that  long  and  blelTcd  feafon  when  Satan 
fhall  be  bound,  when  the  Prince  of  Peace  ihall  reign, 
and  when  the  kingdom  and  dominion,  and  the  greatnefs 
of  the  kingdom  under  the  whole  heaven  jh all  he  given  to 
the  people  of  the  faints  of  the  moji  high,  Dan.  vii.  27.  in 
which  not  only  the  greater  number  of  the  generations 
that  (hall  live  in  that  glorious  millennium  fliall  be  fav- 
ed,  but  perhaps  a  greater  number  than  all  that  perifh- 
ed  in  former  generations,  which  is  very  probable  if 
we  confider  the  long  continuance  of  that  time,  and  that 
the  world  will  then  be  under  the  peculiar  bleffing  of 
Heaven,  and  confequently  mankind  will  multiply  fafter, 
and  not  be  diminifhed  as  they  now  are  by  the  calamities 
of  v/ar,  plagues,  epidemical  ficlcneflcs,  and  the  other 
judgments  of  God  upon  thofe  times  of  rebellion;  if 
■we  alfo  borrow  a  little  light  from  the  hvpothefis  of 
philofophy,  and  fuppofe  that  the  other  planets  of  our 
fyftem  are  peopled  like  our  earth  with  proper  inhabit- 
ants, and  particularly  with  reafonable  creatures  (for 
he  that  made  thofe  vad  bodies  ma,d.e  them  not  in  vain, 
he  made  them  to  he  inhabited \)  if  we  further  fuppofe 
that  each  of  the  innumerable  fixed  ftars  is  a  fun,  the 
center  of  habitable  worlds,  and  that  all  thefe  worlds, 
like  our  ov^^n,  fwarm  with  life,  and  particularly  with 
various  claHes  of  reafonable  beings  (which  is  not  at 
all  unlikely  if  we  argue  from  parity  of  cafes,  from  things 
well  known  to  things  lefs  knov/n,  or  from  the  immenfe 
overflowing  goodnefs,  wifdom  and  power  of  the  great 
Creator,  who  can  replenifh  the  infinite  voids  of  fpace 
with  being,  life,  and  reafon,  and  with  equal  eafe  pro- 
duce and  fjpport  ten  thoufand  worlds  as  ten  thoufand 
M  m  m  grains;) 

*  I  do  not  forget  that  the  original  is  myriads  of  angels.  Bat  the 
word  is  often,  I  think,  generally  ufed  in  the  Greek  c  affics,  not  for 
any  definite  number,  but  for  a  great  and  innumerable  rriultitude. 
And  fo  it  is  ufed  bene. 


450  God  is  Love.  Serm.  i8, 

grains ;)  if  we  fuppofe  that  his  creative  perfeftions  will 
not  lie  inaftive  for  ever,  contented  with  one  exertion 
for  iix  days,  but  that  he  ftill  employs  and  will  employ 
them  for  ever  in  caufing  new  worlds,  replenifhed  with 
moral  agents,  to  flart  into  exiftence  here  and  there  in 
the  endlefs  vacancies  of  {pace  ;  and  finally,  if  we  fup- 
pofe that  the  flames  of  hell  will  blaze  dreadfully  bright 
and  confpicuous  in  the  view  of  all  prefent  and  future 
creations,  or  that  the  deftru6live  nature  of  fin  will  be 
fonie  way  or  another  made  known  to  the  rational  in- 
habitants of  all  worlds  by  the  pnnilhment  inflided 
upcn  a  number  of  men  and  angtls,  and  that  by  this 
means  they  are  effecflually  deterred  from  fin,  and  pre- 
ferved  from  the  mifery  infeparable  from  it ;  I  fay,  if 
we  admit  thefe  fuppofitions,  fome  of  which  are  un- 
doubtedly true,  and  the  refl  I  think  not  improbable, 
then  it  will  follow  that  the  number  of  holy  and  happy 
creatures  in  the  unlverfe  will  be  incom.parably  greater 
than  that  of  miferable  criminals  j  and  that  the  punifh- 
Jnent  of  the  latter  is  one  principal  mean  of  preferving 
this  infinite  number  in  obedience  and  happinefs;  and 
confequently  is  highly  conducive  to  the  public  happi- 
nefs, and  expreiRvc  of  the  love  and  goodnefs  of  the 
univerfal  Ruler  to  the  immenfe  community  of  his  fub- 
jeds.  And  thus  God  is  love^  even  in  the  moft  terrible 
difplays  of  his  vindidive  juftice. 

To  illuftrate  this  fubjeiR:,  confider  farther, 
III.  "  That  criminals  are  incompetent  judges  of 
vlndiiflive  jufiice.'*  They  are  parties,  and  it  is  their 
interefl  their  fnould  be  no  fuch  attribute  asjuftice  in 
the  Deity.  It  is  natural  for  them  to  flatter  themfelves 
that  their  crimes  are  fmall-,  that  their  Judge  will  fuf- 
fcr  them  to  efcape  with  impunity,  or  with  a  gentle 
punifhment  -,  and  that  if  he  fhould  do  otherwife  he 
would  be  unmerciful,  unjufl,  and  cruel.  The  excefs  of 
fclf-love  fup-gefts  to  them,  a  thoufand  excufes  and  exte- 
nuations  of  their  guilt,  and  flatters  them  with  a  thoufand 
favourable  prefumptions.  An  impenitent  criminal  is 
always  an  ungenerous,  mean-fpiritcd,  felfifh  creature, 

and 


Serm.  i8.  God  is  Love.  451 

and  has  nothing  of  that  noble  difinterefted  felf-denial 
and  impartiality  which  would  generoufly  condemn 
himfelf  and  approve  of  that  fentence  by  which  he  dies. 
A  little  acquaintance  with  the  conduft  of  mankind 
will  foon  make  us  fenfible  of  their  partiality  and  wrong 
judgments  in  matters  where  feif  is  concerned  i  and  par- 
ticularly how  unfit  they  are  to  form  an  eftimate  of  juftice 
when  themfelves  are  to  ftand  as  criminals  at  its  bar. 
Now  this  is  the  cafe  of  all  mankind  in  the  affair  new 
under  confideration.  They  are  crinn'nals  at  the  bar 
of  divine  juftice ;  they  are  the  parries  to  be  tried  •> 
they  are  under  the  dominion  of  a  felfifli  fpirit  i  it  is 
natural  to  them  to  palliate  their  own  crimes,  and  to 
form  flattering  expedations  from  the  clemency  of  their 
Judge.  And  are  they  fit  perfons  to  prefcribe  to  their 
Judge  how  he  fhould  deal  with  them,  or  what  mea- 
fure  of  punifnment  he  ought  to  inflift  upon  them  ?  Sin- 
gers !   dare  you  ufurp  this  high  province  ?   Dare  you 

*'  Snatch  from  his  hand  the  balance  and  the  rod, 
"  Rejudge  his  julVice,  be  the  god  of  God  ?"* 

Rather  ftand  at  the  bar,  ye  criminals  I  that  is  your 
place.  Do  not  dare  to  afcend  the  throne  ;  that  is  the 
place  of  your  Judge.  Stand  filcnt,  and  await  his  righte- 
ous fentence,  which  is  alv/ays  juft,  always  beft :  or, 
if  creatures  muft  judge  of  the  juftice  of  their  Sovereign, 
I  appeal  to  the  faints-,  I  appeal  to  angels,  thofc  com- 
petent, difinterefced  judges  J  I  appeal  to  every  upright 
impartial  being  in  the  univerfe.  They  approve,  they 
celebrate,  they  admire,  and  love  all  the  difplays  ot 
punitive  juftice  as  necefiary  to  the  public  goodj  and 
their  judgment  may  be  depended  on:  it  is  not  milled 
by  ignorance  nor  perverted  by  felf-intereil.  To  v;hom 
would  you  appeal  as  judges  of  the  proceedings  of 
courts  of  juftice  among  men  ?  To  ma]efa61:ors  in  a 
dungeon,  who  have  made  juftice  their  enemy,  and  who 
are  therefore  enemies  to  it }  No-,  but  you  v/ould  ap- 
peal to  obedient  fubjeds,  who  are  not  obnoxious  to 

juftice 
*  Pope's  Efliy  on  Man.    ' 


45-  God  is  Love.  Serm.  18. 

juftice  themfelves,  but  enjoy  piote(!lion  under  its  guar- 
dianfhip,  and  are  fenlibie  of  its  beauty  and  public  uti- 
lity ?  They  all  approve  it  with  one  voice,  and  v/culd 
look  upon  a  fupreme  magiftrate  without  it  as  a  very 
contemptible  and  odious  charafter,  and  effentially  de- 
ficient in  goodnefs.  Hence  it  follows  that  even  the 
punitive  juftice  of  God  not  only  is  in  reality,  but  to 
ail  impartial  judges  appears  to  be  a  mcft  amiable,  en- 
gaging, and  beneficent  perfeftion ;  majeflic  indeed, 
but  not  forbidding  ;  awful,  but  not  fuilen  and  hateful ; 
terrible,  but  only  to  criminals  i  and  deftrudive  only 
to  what  dellroys  the  public  good.  I  have  fo  far  anti- 
cipated myfelf  that  I  need  hardly  add, 

iV.  "  That  proceedings  fimilar  to  thofe  of  the  di- 
vine government  are  not  only  approved  of  as  juft  in 
all  human  governm.ents,  but  alfo  loved  and  admired 
as  amJable  and  praife-worthy,  and  highly  efiential  to  the 
goodnefs  and  benevolence  of  a  Ruler." 

Does  the  fupreme  Lav/giver  annex  fevere  penalties 
to  his  laws  vv'hich  render  the  difobedient  miferable  for 
ever  ?  So  do  human  governments  with  the  unanimous 
approbation  of  their  fubjeds  ;  they  inflift  punifhments 
that  afrecx  life,  and  cut  off  the  offender  from  civil  fo- 
cicty  for  ever ;  and  this  is  the  only  kind  of  everlafting 
punifliment  that  can  be  endured  or  executed  by  mor- 
tals. Does  Jehovah  maintain  good  order  in  his  im- 
mcnfe  empire,  protedl  his  fubjeds,  and  deter  them 
from  offending  by  making  examples  of  the  guilty? 
and  does  he  fecure  and  advance  the  good  of  the  whole 
by  the  confpicuous  puniTnm.ent  of  obnoxious  indivi- 
duals ?  This  is  done  every  day  for  the  fame  ends  in 
human  governments,  and  that  v/ith  univerfal  appro- 
bation. Does  he  infiid  puniihments  that  are  not  at  all 
intended  for  the  reform.ation  and  advantage  of  the 
guilty  fufferer,  but  only  for  the  admonition  and  benefit 
of  others?  This  is  always  the  cafe  in  human  govern- 
ments when  the  punirnment  reaches  to  the  life,  for 
then  the  offender  himielf  is  put  out  of  all  capacity  of 
reformation  or  perfonal  advantage  by  it,  but  he  fuffers 

entirely 


Serrn.  i8.  God  is  Love.  453 

entirely  for  the  good  of  others.  Even  criminals  mufl: 
be  made  ufeful  to  fociety  ;  and  this  is  the  only  ufe  they 
are  fit  to  anfwer.  V/ould  It  be  inexpedient  and  great- 
ly injurious  for  a  magiftrate  in  his  public  charader  to 
forgive  crimes  and  fuffer  criminals  to  efcape,  though 
to  do  fo  in  a  private  charafler  might  be  a  virtue  ?  Jull 
fo  God,  who  is  the  fupreme  Magiftrate  of  the  univerfe, 
and  not  at  all  to  be  confidered  in  this  cafe  as  a  private 
perfon  afting  only  in  a  private  charadler,  the  great 
God  I  fay  is  obliged  by  his  regard  for  his  own  honour 
and  the  benefit  of  his  fubjeds,  to  inflid^  proper  punifh- 
ments  and  diftribute  his  pardoning  mercy  to  indivi- 
duals confidently  with  the  general  good  of  the  whole. 
What  would  be  revenge  in  a  private  perfon,  which  is 
the  ruling  paffion  of  devils,  is  juftice,  honour  and  be- 
nevolence itfelf  in  the  fupreme  Ruler  of  the  world; 
and  a  failure  in  this  would  render  him  not  only  lefs 
glorious  and  majeitic,  but  lefs  amiable,  lefs  beneficent 
to  ills  creatures. 

I  know  hardly  any  thing  of  {o  much  importance  to 
give  us  jufi:  fentiments  of  the  proceedings  of  God  with 
his  creatures,  as  that  we  fhould  conceive  of  him  as  a 
moral  Ruler  or  the  fupreme  Magiftrate  of  the  world. 
And  it  is  ov/ing  to  their  not  confidering  him  in  this 
charader  that  finners  indulge  fuch  maftaken  dange- 
rous prefumptions  concerning  him.  They  choofe  to 
conceive  of  him  under  fome  fond  and  tender  name,  as 
a  Being  of  infinite  grace,  the  indulgent  Father  of  his 
creatures,  &c.  All  this  is  true  ;  but  it  is  equally  true 
that  he  is  their  moral  Ruler  as  well  as  their  Father. 
His  creatures  are  his  fubjeds  as  well  as  his  children ; 
and  he  mufc  acl  the  wife  and  righteous  Magiftrate  as 
well  as  the  tender  Father  towards  them.  His  gocd- 
nefs  is  that  of  a  Ruler,  and  not  of  a  private  perfon  j 
and  his  pardoning  of  fin  and  receiving  offenders  into 
iavour,  are  not  private  kindnefies  but  a(5ls  of  govern- 
ment, and  therefore  they  muft  be  conduded  with  the 
utmoft  wifdom ;  for  a  wrong  ftep  in  his  infinite  ad- 
miniftration,  which  aifeds  fuch  innumerabh  multi- 
tudes 


454  God  is  Love.  Serm.  18. ' 

tildes  of  fubjedls,  would  bean  infinite  evil,  and  might 
admit  of  no  reparation. 

Though  I  have  thus  enlarged  upon  this  fubjed,  yet 
I  am  far  from  exhaufting  my  materials.  But  thefe 
things  I  hope  are  fufficient  to  convince  your  under- 
ftandings  that  divine  juftice  is  not  that  unkind,  cruel, 
and  favage  thing  finners  are  wont  to  imagine  it  j  but 
that  God  is  juft,  becaufe  God  is  love;  and  that  he 
punilhes  not  becaufe  he  is  the  enemy,  but  becaufe  he 
is  the  friend  of  his  creatures,  and  becaufe  he  loves  the 
whole  too  well  to  let  particular  offenders  do  mifchief 
with  impunity*. 

I  fhall  only  add,  that  this  is  the  view  Jehovah  has 
given  of  himfelf  in  the  cleared  manifeftation  of  his 
perfedlions  that  he  ever  made  to  m.ortals.  He  pro- 
mifes  his  favourite  Mofes,  that  he  would  make  all  his 
goodnefs  pafs  before  him.  Obferve,  it  is  his  goodnefs 
he  intends  to  exhibit ;  and  the  proclamation  runs  thus  j 
The  Lord^  the  Lord  God,  merciful  and  gracious^  long- 
fuffering^  forgiving  iniquity,  &c.  That  thefe  are  a6is 
or  modifications  of  goodnefs,  will  be  eafily  granted. 
But  obferve,  it  is  added  even  in  this  proclamation  of 
his  goodnefs,  That  he  will  by  no  means  clear  the  guilty  ; 
intimating,  that  to  be  juft  and  puniih  fin  is  an  a6t  of 
goodnefs,  as  well  as  to  be  merciful  and  to  forgive  it. 

And  now  when  we  have  this  copious  fubje(51;  in  re- 
view, does  it  nor  fuggeft  to  us  fuch  condufions  as  thefe ; 

I.  May 

*  It  may  perhaps  be  obiccled,  "  That  to  reprefent  jullice  under 
the  notion  of"  iove,  is  to  aifetfl  fingularity  in  language,  to  dcilroy  the 
diftinftion  of  the  divine  attributes,  and  the  eflential  diiFerenccs  of 
things." — To  which  1  anfwer,  i.  That  a  catachreiis  may  be  beauti- 
ful and  empharica!,  though  ic  be  always  a  fieming  impropriety  in 
language.  Such  is  this  reprefentation,  "  Divine  juftice,  divine  love.'* 
2.  I  do  not  deny  that  God's  executing  righteous  puniiTiinent  upon 
the  guilty  may  b^  ca'iled  juHice  ;  bur  then  it  is  his  love  to  the  public 
that  excites  hiin  to  do  this ;  and  therefore  his  doing  it  may  be  properly 
denominated  love,  as  well  asjullice,  or  love  under  the  name  of  jultice, 
which  is  love  Hill.  3.  I  do  not  mean  that  the  ufual  names  of  things 
fhould  be  chnnjed,  but  that  we  flioald  afiis  fuitable  ideas  to  them. 
We  may  retain  the  name  of  juftice  Hill,  but  let  us  not  alHx  ideas  to  it 
that  are  inconfiftent  with  divine  love.  Let  us  not  look  upon  it  as 
th^  attribute  of  a  tyrant,  but  of  a  wife  and  good  ruler. 


Serm.  i8.  God  is  Love.  455 

I.  May  we  not  conclude  that  the  cafe  of  Impenitent 
finners  is  defperate  indeed  when  it  is  not  exceflive  ri- 
gour, not  a  malignity  of  temper,  not  tyranny,  or  a 
favage  delight  in  torture  that  condemns  them,  but 
goodnefs  itfelf,  love  itfelf  ?  Even  the  gentler  perfec- 
tions of  the  Deity,  thofe  from  which  they  derive  their 
prefumptuous  hopes,  are  confpired  againfc  them,  and 
unite  their  forces  to  render  them  miferable,  in  order 
to  prevent  greater  mifery  from  fpreadin^  through  the 
univerfe.  Impenitent  finners  !  even  the  unbounded 
love  of  God  to  his  creatures  is  your  enemy.  Love, 
under  the  name  and  form  of  jufrice,  which  is  equally 
love  ftill,  demands  your  execution ;  and  to  fuiter  you 
to  efcape  would  not  only  be  an  aft  of  injuflice,  but  an 
ad  of  malignity  and  hoftility  againft  the  whole  fydem 
of  rational  beings.  Therefore  repent  and  be  holy, 
othervvife  divine  love  will  i.ot  fufrer  you  to  be  happy. 
God  is  love ;  therefore  will  he  confine  you  in  the  in- 
fernal prifon,  as  a  regard  to  the  public  Vv^elfare  in 
human  governments  fnuts  up  criminals  in  a  dungeon, 
and  madmen  in  Bedlam. 

II.  May  we  not  hence  conclude  that  all  the  a6ls  of 
the  Deity  may  be  refolved  into  the  benevolent  princi- 
ple of  love  ?  God  is  love;  therefore  he  m.ade  this  vaft 
univerfe,  and  planted  it  fo  thick  with  variegated  life. 
God  is  love\  therefore  he  ftill  rules  the  world  he  has 
made,  and  inflifts  chaftifements  and  jud2;ments  upon 
it  from  every  age.  God  is  love  \  therefore  he  fpared 
not  his  own  Son,  but  made  him  the  viftim  of  his  juf- 
tice.  God  is  love-,  therefore  he  requires  perfecft  holi- 
nefs,  perfect:  obedience  from  ail  Iiis  fubjecls.  God  is 
love;  therefore  he  has  enafted  fuch  tremendous  fanc- 
tions  to  his  law,  and  executes  them  in  their  full  extent 
upon  offenders.  God  is  love;  therefore  he  has  made 
the  prifon  of  hell,  and  there  confines  In  chains  of  ever- 
laftino:  darknefs  thofe  malevolent  creatures  that  would 
be  nuifances  to  fociety,  and  public  mifchiefs  if  fuffered 
to  run  at  large.     In  fhort,  whatever  he  does,  he  does 

it 


45^  ^he  General  ReJurre5iion.         Serm.  19. 

it  becaufe  he  is  love.     How  amiable  a  view  of  him 
this !      Therefore, 

III.  We  may  certainly  conclude  that  if  God  be  love, 
then  all  his  creatures  ought  to  love  him.  Love  him, 
O  all  ye  inhabitants  of  Heaven !  But  they  need  not 
my  exhortation ;  they  know  him,  and  therefore  can- 
not but  love  him.  Love  him,  all  ye  inhabitants  of 
the  planetary  worlds  !  if  fuch  there  be.  Thefe  alfo  I 
hope  need  no  exhortation,  for  we  would  willingly  per- 
fuade  ourfelves  that  other  territories  of  \ws  immenfe 
empire  have  not  rebelled  againft  him  as  this  earth  has 
done.  Love  him,  O  ye  children  of  men  !  Tc  you  I 
call ;  but  O  !  I  fear  I  (hall  cail  in  vain.  To  love  him 
who  is  ail  love  is  the  moll:  hopelefs  propofal  one  can 
make  to  the  world.  But  whatever  others  do,  love  the 
Lord,  all  ye  his  faints !  You  I  know  cannot  refift  the 
motion.  Surely  your  love  even  now  is  all  on  fire. 
Love  tte  Lord,  O 'my  foul!     Amen. 


SERMON     XIX. 

The  General  Refurredlion. 


John  v.  2S,  29.  The  hour  is  earning  in  the  which  all 
that  (ire  in  the  graz-e  fball  hear  his  voice,  and  foall 
ccr,:e  forth',  they  that  have  done  good,  unto  the  refur- 
reBicn  of  life ;  and  they  that  have  done  evil,  to  the 
refurreciion  of  damnation. 

^  VER  fince  {in  entered  into  the  world,  and  death 

'  by  iin,  this  earth  has  been  a  vaft  grave-yard,  or 

burying-place  for  her  children.  In  every  age,  and  in 
every  country,  that  fentence  has  been  executing,  Dujf 
thou  art,  and  unto  dufi  then  fnalt  return.  The  earth 
has  been  arched  with  graves,  the  laft  lodgings  of  mor- 
tals. 


F. 


Serm.  19.         T'hd  General  Refurrecfion.  457 

tals,  and  the  bottom  of  the  ocean  paved  with  the  bones 
of  men*.  Human  nature  was  at  firft  confined  to  one 
pair,  but  how  foon  and  how  wide  did  it  fpread  !  How 
inconceivably  numerous  are  the  Tons  of  Adam  !  How 
many  different  nations  ovi  our  globe  contain  many 
millions  of  men,  even  in  one  generation  !  And  how 
many  generations  have  fucceeded  one  another  in  the 
long  run  of  near  fix  thoufand  years  !  Let  imagination 
call  up  this  vail  army  ;  children  that  jufi:  light  upon 
our  slobe  and  then  wing  their  flight  into  an  unknown 
world;  the  grey-headed  that  have  had  a  long  journey 
through  life;  the  blooming  youth  and  the  middle- 
aged,  let  them  pafs  in  review  before  us  from  all  coun- 
tries and  from  all  ages  ;  and  how  vail:  and  ailonifliing 
the  multitude  !  If  the  poilerity  of  one  man  (Abraham) 
by  one  fon  was,  according  to  the  divine  promife, 
as  the  ftars  of  Heaven,  or  as  the  fand  by  the  lea- 
ihore,  innumerable,  what  numbers  can  compute 
the  multitudes  that  have  fprung  from  all  the  Pa- 
triarchs, the  fons  of  Adam  and  Noah  !  But  what  is 
become  of  them  all  ?  Alas !  they  are  turned  into 
earth,  their  original  element;  they  are  ail  imprifoned 
in  the  grave  except  the  prefent  generation,  and  we 
are  dropping  one  after  another  in  a  quick  fuccefiion 
into  that  place  appoinied  for  all  H-vhig.  There  has  not 
been  perhaps  a  moment  of  time  for  five  thoufand  years 
but  what  fome  one  or  other  has  funk  into  the  manfions 
of  the  dead  ;  and  in  fome  fatal  hours,  by  the  fvvord  of 
war  or  the  devouring  jaws  of  earthquakes,  thoufands 
have  been  cut  off  and  Iwept  away  at  once,  and  left  in 
one  huge  promifcuous  carnage.  The  greateft  number 
of  mankind  beyond  comparifon  are  fleeping  under 
ground.  There  lies  beauty  mouldering  into  dull,  rot- 
ting into  ftench  and  loathfomenefs,  and  feeding  the  vileft 
worms.  There  lies  the  head  that  once  wore  a  crown, 
as  low  and  contemptible  as  the  meaneil  beggar. 
N  n  n  There 

*  No  fpDt  on  earth  bat  has  fupply'd  a  griive ; 
And  human  fcui's  ihs  fparicus  ocean  pave. 

Young. 


45^  The  General  Refurre^iojj.         Serm.  19. 

There  lie  the  mighty  giants,  the  heroes  and  con- 
querors, the  Samfons,  the  Ajax's,  the  Alexanders, 
and  the  CsOirs  of  the  world ;  there  they  lie  ftupid, 
fenfelefs,  and  inadlive,  and  unable  to  drive  off  the 
worms  that  riot  on  their  marrow,  and  make  their 
houfes  in  thofe  fockets  where  the  eyes  fparkled  with 
living  luftre.  There  lie  the  wife  and  the  learned,  as 
rotten,  as  helplefs  as  the  fool.  There  lie  fome  that 
we  once  converfed  v/ith,  fome  that  were  our  friends 
our  companions;  and  there  lie  our  fathers  and  mo- 
thers, our  brothers  and  fifters. 

And  fhall  they  lie  there  alwavs  ?  Shall  this  body, 
this  carious  workmanfhip  of  Heaven,  fo  wonderfully 
and  fearfully  made,  always  lie  in  ruins,  and  never  be 
repaired  ?  Shall  the  wide-extended  valleys  of  dry 
bones  never  more  live  ?  This  we  know,  that  //  is 
'not  a  thing  irApoJfible  with  God  to  raife  the  dead.  He 
that  could  iirft  form  our  bodies  out  of  nothing,  is  cer- 
tainly able  to  form  them  anew,  and  repair  the  waftes 
of  time  and  death.  But  what  is  his  declared  will  in 
this  cafe  ?  On  this  the  matter  turns ;  and  this  is  fully 
revealed  in  my  text.  The  hour  is  comings  "when  all  that 
are  in  the  graves.,  all  that  are  dead,  without  exception, 
Jhall  hear  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  Gcd^  and  fhall  come 
forth. 

And  for  what  end  fhall  they  come  forth  ?  O  !  for 
very  different  purpofes  ;  fome  to  the  refiirreSlion  of  life ^ 
end  fome  to  the  refiirre^ion  of  damnation. 

And  what  is  the  ground  of  this  vaft  diilinAion  ? 
Or  what  is  the  difference  in  character  between  thofe 
that  fhall  receive  fo  different  a  doom  .^  It  is  this.  They 
that  have  done  good  f 3 all  rife  to  life^  and  they  that  have 
done  evil.,  to  damnation.  It  is  this,  and  this  only,  that 
will  then  be  the  rule  of  diftinftion. 

I  would  avoid  all  art  in  my  method  of  handling  this 
fubjeft,  and  intend  only  to  illuftrate  the  feveral  parts 
of  the  text.  AH  that  are  in  the  'graves  fhall  hear  his 
vcicc,  and  frjall  come  forth -.y  they  that  have  done  ivell^  to 

the 


Serm.  ip.         l^he  General  Refurreclkn.  459 

the  refurre5lion  of  life;  and  they  that  have  doneeiil^  to 
the  refurreclion  of  damnation ! 

I.  They  that  are  in  the  graves  fnall  herr  iii.s  voice. 
The  voice  of  the  Son  of  God  here  probably  mtans  the 
found  of  the  archimgei's  trumpet,  which  is  called  his 
voice,  becaufe  founded  by  his  orders  and  atU^nded  with 
his  all-quickening  power.  This  all-awakening  call  to 
the  tenants  of  the  grave  we  frequently  find  foretold  in. 
fcripture.  I  fhall  refer  you  to  two  plain  pafl'ages. 
Behold,  fays  St.  Paul,  I/hezv  you  a  myflery,  an  impor- 
tant and  aftonifhing  fecret,  we  [hall  not  all  Jleep ;  that 
is,  mankind  v/ill  not  all  be  fleeping  in  death  when  that 
day  comes,  there  will  be  a  generation  then  alive  upon 
earth ;  and  though  they  cannot  have  a  proper  refur- 
redion,  yet  they  fhall  pafs  through  a  change  equiva- 
lent to  it.  JVe  (Id all  all  be  changed^  fays  he,  in  a  mo- 
ment, in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  at  the  laft  trump,  for 
the  tnunpet  fjall found,  it  fhall  give  the  alarm;  and  no 
fooner  is  the  awful  clangor  heard  than  all  the  living 
fnall  be  transformed  into  immortals;  and  the  dead  foall 
he  raifed  incorruptible ;  and  we,  who  are  then  alive,  JJjall 
he  changed,  1  Cor.  xv.  51,  52.  this  is  all  the  differ- 
ence, they  fjall  be  raifed,  and  we  f jail  be  changed.  This 
awful  prelude  cf  the  trumpet  is  alfo  mentioned  in 
I  TheiT.  iv.  15,  16.  IVe  which  are  alive,  and  remain 
unto  the  coming  of  the  Lord,  Pj all  not  prevent  them  which 
are  afleep  -,  that  is,  we  fhall  not  be  beforehand  with. 
them  in  meeting  our  defcending  Lord,  for  the  Lord 
himfelf  fhall  defc  end  from  heaven  with  a  fjout,  with  the 
voice  of  the  archangel,  and  with  the  trump  of  God;  that 
is,  with  a  godhke  trump,  fuch  as  it  becomes  his  ma- 
iefty  to  found,  and  the  dead  in  Chrifi  fhall  rife  firji ;  tliat 
is,  before  tJie  living  fhall  be  caught  up  in  the  clouds 
to  meet  the  Lord  in  the  air  -,  and  when  they  are  rifen, 
and  the  living  transformed,  they  fnall  afcend  together 
to  the  place  of  judgment. 

My  brethren,  realize  the  majefiy  and  terror  of  this 
imiverfal  alarm.  When  the  dead  are  fieeping  in  the 
filent  grave:   when  the  living  are  thoughtlefs  and  un- 

apprelienfive 


460  'J be  General ReJurreEiion.         Serm.  19. 

apprehenfive  of  the  grand  event,  or  intent  on  other 
purfuits  ;  fome  of  them  afleep  in  the  dead  of  night  •, 
fome  of  them  diflblved  in  fenfual  pleafures,  eating  and 
drinking,  marrying  and  giving  in  marriage  •,  fome  of 
them  planning  or  executing  fchemes  for  riches  or  ho- 
nours ;  forae  in  the  very  ad  of  fin  i  the  generality  ftu- 
pid  and  carelefs  about  the  concerns  of  eternity,  and 
the  dreadful  day  juft  at  hand  ^  and  a  few  here  and 
there  converfing  v,'ith  their  God,  and  looking  for  the 
glorious  appearance  of  their  Lord  and  Saviour;  when 
the  courfe  of  nature  runs  on  uniform  and  regular  as 
ufual,  and  infidel  fcofi^ers  are  taking  umbrage  from 
thence  to  afk.  Where  is  the  pro?nife  of  his  cording  f  for 
fince  the  fathers  fell  ajleep^  ah  things  continue  as  they 
"w ere  from  the  beginning  of  the  creation.  2  Peter  iii.  4. 
In  lliort,  when  there  are  no  more  vifible  appearances 
of  this  approaching  day,  than  of  the  deiirudion  of 
Sodom  on  that  fine  clear  morning  in  which  Lot  fied 
away  ;  or  of  the  deluge,  when  Noah  entered  into  the 
ark:  then  in  that  hour  of  unapprehenfive  fecurity, 
then  fuddenly  fhali  the  heavens  open  over  the  afi:oniih- 
ed  world-,  then  fhall  the  all-alarming  clangor  break 
over  their  heads  like  a  clap  of  thunder  in  a  clear  fky. 
Immediately  the  living  turn  their  gazing  eyes  upon 
the  amazing  phj^nomenon  :  a  few  hear  the  long-ex- 
pedled  found  with  rapture,  and  lift  up  their  heads  with 
joy,  afiured  that  the  day  cf  their  redemption  is  come, 
while  the  thoughtlefs  world  are  ftruck  with  the  wildeft 
hoircw  and  conHernation.  In  tho,  fame  inftant  the 
found  reaches  all  the  manfions  of  the  dead,  and  in  a 
moment,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  they  are  raifed, 
and  the  living  are  changed.  This  call  will  be  as  ani- 
mating  to  ail  the  fons  of  men  as  that  call  to  a  fingle 
perfon,  Lazarus^  come  forth.  O  what  a  furprife  will 
this  be  to  the  thoughtlefs  Vvorld  !  Should  this  alarm 
burfi:  over  our  heads  this  moment,  into  what  a  terror 
would  it  ftrike  many  in  this  afTembly  ?  Such  Vv/ill  hz 
the  terror,  fuch  the  ccnrtemation,  when  it  nftually 
comes  to  pafs.     Sinners  will  be  the  fame  timorous, 

ftlf- 


Serm.  19.         The  General  Refurre^f ion.  461 

felf-condemned  creatures  then  as  they  are  now.  Arfd 
then  they  will  not  be  able  to  flop  their  ears,  who  are 
deaf  to  all  the  gentler  calls  of  the  gofpel  now.  Then 
the  trump  of  God  will  conftrain  them  to  hear  and  fear, 
to  whom  the  minifters  of  Chrift  now  preach  in  vain. 
Then  they  muft  all  hear,  for, 

II.  My  text  tells  you,  all  that  are  in  the  graves^  all 
without  exception,  JImU  hear  his  voice.  Now  the  voice 
of  mercy  calls,  reafon  pleads,  confcience  warns,  but 
multitudes  will  not  hear.  But  this  is  a  voice  which 
fhall,  which  muft  reach  every  one  of  the  millions  of 
mankind,  and  not  one  of  them  will  be  able  ftop  his 
ears.  Infants  and  giants,  kings  and  fuhjeds,  all  ranks, 
all  ages  of  mankind  fhall  hear  the  call.  The  living 
fhall  ftart  and  be  changed,  and  the  dead  rife  at  the 
found.  The  duft  that  was  once  alive  and  formed  a 
human  body,  whether  it  fiies  in  the  air,  floats  in  the 
ocean,  or  vegetates  on  earth,  fliall  hear  the  new- 
creating  fiat.  Wherever  the  fragments  of  the  human 
frame  are  fcattered,  this  all-penetrating  call  fhall  reach 
and  fpeak  them  into  life.  We  may  confider  this  voice 
as  a  fummons  not  only  to  dead  bodies  to  rife,  but  to 
the  fouls  that  once  animated  them  to  appear,  and  be 
re-united  to  them,  v/hether  in  heaven  or  hell.  To 
the  grave  the  call  will  be,  Arife,  ye  dead.,  and  come  to 
judgment  \  to  heaven,  yo,  fpirits  of  juji  men  made  per- 
feSi\  "  defcend  to  the  world  whence  you  originally 
came  ;  and  afTume  your  new- formed  bodies-,"  to  hell, 
"  Come  forth  and  appear,  ye  damned  ghofts,  ye  pri- 
foners  of  darknefs,  and  be  again  united  to  the  bodies 
in  which  you  once  finned,  that  in  them  ye  may  now 
fufter."  Thus  will  this  fummons  fpread  through  every 
corner  of  the  univerfe  \  and  Heaven,  Earth  and  Hell, 
and  ail  their  inhabitants,  fhall  hear  and  obey.  Devils, 
as  well  as  the  finners  of  our  race,  will  tremble  at  the 
found  ;'  for  now  they  know  they  can  plead  no  more 
as  they  once  did,  Torment  us  not  before  the  time;  for 
the  time  is  come,  and  they  muft  mingle  v,'ith  the  pri- 

foners 


4.62  T'be  General 'Rejurre^ficff.         Serm.  19. 

foners  at  the  bar.     And  now  when  all  that  are  in  the 
graves  hear  this  all-quickening  voice, 

III.  They  Jhall  come  forth.  Now  methinks  I  fee, 
I  hear  the  earth  heaving,  charnel-houfes  rattling, 
tombs  burfting,  graves  opening.  Now  the  nations 
under  ground  begin  to  ftir.  There  is  a  noife  and  a 
fliaking  among  the  dry  bones.  The  duft  is  all  alive, 
and  in  motion,  and  the  globe  breabs  and  trembles, 
as  v/ith  an  earthquake,  while  this  vaft  army  is  work- 
ing its  way  through  and  burfting  into  life.  The  ruins 
of  human  bodies  are  fcattered  far  and  wide,  and  have 
pafled  through  many  and  furprifing  transformations. 
A  limb  in  one  country,  and  another  in  another  j  here 
the  head  and  there  the  trunk,  and  the  ocean  rolling 
between*.  Multitudes  have  funk  in  a  watery  grave, 
been  fwallowed  up  by  the  monfters  of  the  deep,  and 
transformed  into  a  part  of  their  fiefh.  Multitudes  have 
been  eaten  by  beafcs  and  birds  of  prey,  and  incorpo- 
rated with  them;  and  fome  have  been  devoured  by 
their  fellow-men  in  the  rage  of  a  defperate  hunger,  or 
of  unnatural  cannibal  appetite,  and  digeiled  into  a  part 
of  them.  Multitudes  have  mouldered  into  duft, 
and  this  duft  has  been  blown  about  by  winds,  and 
W3.raed  away  with  water,  or  it  has  petrified  into  ftonc, 
or  been  burnt  into  brick  to  form  dvvellings  for  their 
pofterity  ;  or  it  has  grown  up  in  grain,  trees,  plants, 
and  other  vegetables,  which  are  the  fupport  of  man 
and  bcaft-,  and  are  transformed  into  their  flefh  and 
blood.  But  through  all  thefe  various  trnsformations 
and  changes,  not  a  particle  that  was  eflential  to  one 
human  body  has  been  loft,  or  incorporated  with  an- 
other human  body,  fo  as  to  become  an  eftential  part 
of  it.  And  as  to  thofe  particles  that  were  not  effentiai, 
they  are  not  neceftary  to  the  identity  of  the  body  or 
of  the  perfon ;  and  therefore  we  need  not  think 
they  Vv'ill  be  raifed  again.     The  omnifcient  God  knows 

hov/ 

*  This  was  t]ie  fate  of  Pompcy,  wlio  was  ilain  on  tlie  African 
fhore.  His  body  was  left  there,  2nd  his  head  CJrricd  over  tlie  Medi- 
terranean to  Julius  Cxfar. 


Serm.  19.         l!hs  General  Rcjurreclion.  463 

how  to  colleit,  dii-tinguifh,  and  compound  all  thofe 
fcattered  and  mingled  feeds  of  our  mortal  bodies.  And 
now,  at  the  found  of  the  trumpet,  they  fhall  all  be 
colled:ed,  wherever  they  were  fcattered  j  all  properly 
forted  and  united,  however  they  were  confufed ; 
atom  to  its  fellow-atom,  bone  to  its  fellow-bone. 
Now  methinks  you  may  fee  the  a'r  darkened  with 
fragments  of  bodies  flying  from  country  to  country,  to 
meet  and  join  their  proper  parts  : 

"  Scatter'd  limbs,  and  all 


The  various  bones  obfequious  to  the  call, 
Self-mov'd  advance  ;  the  neck  perhaps  to  meet 
The  diftant  head,  the  diftant  legs,  the  feer. 
Dreadful  to  view,  fee  through  the  dufky  fky 
Fragments  of  bodies  in  confufion  fly. 
To  diftant  regions  journeying,  there  to  claim 
Deferted  members,  and  complete  the  frame — 
The  fever'd  head  and  trunk  fhall  join  once  more, 
Tho'  realms  now  rife  between,  and  oceans  roar. 
The  trumpet's  found  each  vagrant  mote  fhall  hear. 
Or  fix:  in  earth,  or  if  afloat  in  air. 
Obey  the  lignal,  wafted  in  the  wind, 
And  not  one  flesping  atom  lag  behind." — * 
All  hear;  and  now,  in  fairer  profpcft  fhcwn. 
Limb  clings  to  limb,  and  bone  rejoins  its  bone. — -j- 

Then, 

*  Young's  Lsft  Day,  Book  il. 
f  Thefe  two  lafl  lines  are  taken  from  a  poem,  which  is  a  lively 
imitation  of  Dr.  Young,  entitled,  The  Day  of  'Judgment,  afcnbcd  to 
Mr.  Ogilvic,  a  promifing  young  genius  of  Aberdeen  in  Scotland, 
not  above  t^ineteen  years  of  age,  as  I  was  informed,  when  he  com- 
pofcd  this  poem.     The  lines  preceding  thefe  quoted  are  as  follow  : 

O'er  boiling  wave?  the  fevered  members  fwim> 

Each  breeze  is  loaded  with  a  broken  limb  : 

The  living  atoms,  with  peculiar  care, 

Drawn  from  their  cells,  come  flying  thro'  the  air. 

Where'er  they  lurk'd,  thro'  ages  undecay'd, 

Deep  in  the  rock,  or  cloth'd  feme  fmiling  mead,; 

Or  in  the  lily's  fnowy  bofom  grew, 

Or  ting'd  the  faphire  with  its  lovely  blue  ; 

Or  in  ibme  purling  ftream  refrefli'd  the  plains; 

Or  form'd  the  mountain's  adamantine  veins ; 

Or  gaily  fponing  in  the  breathing  fpring, 

Perluin'd  the  whifp'ring  Zephyr's  bahT.y  wirjg. 

All  hear,  ^c. 

The 


4^4  ^'be  General  Refurre^ion.         Serm.  19, 

Then,  my  brethren,  your  duft  and  mine  fhall  be 
re-animated  and  organized ;  and  though  after  our  Jkin 
worms  defiroy  ihefe  bodies^  yet  in  our  flejh  Jhall  we  fee 
God.  Job  xix.  16. 

And  what  a  vafl:  improvement  will  the  frail  nature 
of  man  then  receive  ?  Our  bodies  will  then  be  fub- 
flantially  the  fame-,  but  how  different  in  qualities,  in 
ftrength,  in  agility,  in  capacities  for  pleafure  or  pain, 
in  beauty  or  deformity,  in  glory  or  teiror,  according 
to  the  moral  charadler  of  the  perfons  to  whom  they 
belong?  Matter,  we  know,  is  capable  of  prodigious 
alterations  and  refinements  ;  and  there  it  will  appear  in 
the  higheft  perfed:ion.  The  bodies  of  the  faints  will 
be  formed  glorious,  incorruptible,  v>^ithout  the  feeds 
of  ilcknefs  and  death.  The  glorified  body  of  Chrift, 
which  is  undoubtedly  carried  to  the  higheft  perfeftion 
that  matter  is  capable  of,  will  be  the  pattern  after 
which  they  fhall  be  formed.  He  will  change  our  vile 
hody.,  fays  St.  Paul,  that  it  may  be  fajhioned  like  unto 
his  glorious  body.  Phil.  iii.  2 1 .  FlefJj  and  blood.,  in  their 
prefent  ftate  of  groffnefs  and  frailty,  cannot  inherit  the 
kingdom  of  Gcd\  neither  doth  corruption  inherit  incorrup- 
tion.  But  this  corruptible  body  mufl  put  on  incorruption  ; 
dnd  this  mortal  mujl  put  on  immortality  Cor.  xv.  50,  c^t^. 
And  how  vaft  the  change,  how  high  the  improvement 
from  its  prefent  ftate  !  //  was  fown  in  corruption,  it 
fhall  be  raifed  in  incorruption ;  //  was  fown  in  dif honour .^ 
it  floall  be  raifed  in  glory  \  it  was  fown  in  weaknefs.,  it 
fhall  be  raifed  in  power.,  verfe  42,  43,  &c.  Then  will 
the  body  be  able  to  bear  up  under  the  exceeding  great 
and  eternal  weight  of  glory  :  it  will  no  longer  be  a  clog 
or  an  incumbrance  to  the  foul,  but  a  proper  inftrument 

and 

The  thought  feems  to  be  borrowed  from  Mr.  Addifon's  fine  Latin 
poem  on  the  Refurre£lion,  in  which  are  the  following  beautiful  lines : 

Jam  pulvis  varias  tense  difperfa  per  orap, 
Sive  inter  venas  teneri  concreta  metalii, 
'Icniim  diriguit,  feu  fcfe  immifcuit  heibis, 
Explicita  eft  ;  molem  rurfus  coalefcit  in  unam 
Diviium  Funus,  fparfos  prior  all igat  artus 
Jundtura,  aptanturqj  iterura  coeuntia  membra. 


Serm.  19.         The  General  Refurrc it  ion.  465 

and  adiftant  in  ail  the  exalted  fervices  and  enjoyments 
of  the  heavenly  ftate. 

The  bodies  of  the  wicked  will  alfo  be  improved, 
but  their  improvements  will  all  be  terrible  and  vindic- 
tive. Their  capacities  will  be  thoroughly  enlarged, 
but  then  it  will  be  that  they  may  be  made  capable  of 
greater  mifery  :  they  will  be  llrengthened,  but  it  will 
be  that  they  may  bear  the  heavier  load  ot  torment. 
Their  fenfations  will  be  more  quick  and  ilrong,  but 
it  will  be  that  they  may  feel  the  more  exquiilte  pain. 
They  v/ill  be  raifed  immortal,  that  they  may  not  be 
confumed  by  everlafting  fire,  or  efcape  punifnment 
by  diliblution  or  annihilation.  In  fhort,  their  aug- 
mented ilrength,  their  enlarged  capacities,  and  their 
immortality  will  be  their  eternal  curfe  \  and  they  would 
willingly  exchange  them  for  the  fleeting  duraeion  of  a 
fading  flower,  or  the  faint  fenfations  of  an  infant. 
The  only  power  they  would  rejoice  in  is,  that  of  felf- 
annihilation. 

And  now  when  the  bodies  are  completely  formed 
and  fit  to  be  inhabited,  the  fouls  that  once  animated 
them,  being coUeded  from  Heaven  and  Hell,  re-enter 
and  take  poHeffion  of  their  old  manfions.  They  are 
united  in  bonds  which  fhall  never  more  hi  diiTolved-, 
and  x}c\.^  mouiderins:  tabernacles  are  now  become  ever- 
hflins  habitations. 

And  with  v/hat  joy  will  the  fJDirits  of  the  righteous 
welcome  their  old  companions  from  their  long  fJeep  in 
the  dud:,  and  conrrratulate  their  cilorious  refarre6tion  I 
How  will  they  rejoice  to  re-enter  their  old  habitations, 
now  fo  completely  repaired  and  highly  improved  r  to 
find  thofe  bodies  which  were  once  their  incurabraRce, 
once  frail  and  mortal,  in  which  they  were  imprifoned 
and  languifhed,  once  their  temptation,  tainted  with 
the  feeds  of  fin,  nov/  their  afiiilants  and  co-partners  \i\ 
the  bufinefs  of  Heaven,  now  vigorous,  incorruptible, 
and  immortal,  now  free  from  all  corrupt  mixtures,  and 
fi-iining  in  all  tlie  beauties  of  perfed  holinefs  r  In  thefe 
bodies  they  once  ferved  their  God  with  honeft  though 
O  o  o  feeble 


40 6  The  General  Refurre5fion.         Serm.  19, 

feeble  efforts,  confiided  with  fin  and  temptation,  and 
paiTed  through  all  the  united  trials  and  hardfhips  of 
mortality  and  the  chriftian  life.  But  now  they  are 
united  to  them  for  more  exalted  and  blifsful  purpofes. 
The  ]ung55  that  were  wont  to  heave  with  penitential 
fighs  and  groans,  fliall  now  fhout  forth  their  joys  and 
the  praifes  of  their  God  and  Saviour.  The  heart  that 
was  once  broken  with  forrows  fhall  now  be  bound  up 
for  ever,  and  overflow  with  immortal  pleafures.  Thofe 
very  eyes,  that  were  wont  to  run  dov;n  with  tears 
and  to  behold  many  a  tragical  fight,  fhall  now  behold 
the  King  in  his  beauty^  (hail  behold  the  Saviour  whom, 
though  unfeen,  they  loved,  and  all  the  glories  of  hea- 
ven ;  and  GodJJjall  wipe  away  all  their  tears.  All  the 
fenfes,  which  were  once  avenues  of  pain,  fhall  now 
be  inlets  of  the  moft  exalted  pleafure.  In  fhort,  every 
organ,  every  member  iliall  be  employed  in  the  moft 
noble  fervices  and  enjoyments,  inftead  of  the  fordid 
and  laborious  drudgery,  and  the  painful  fufl-ierings  of 
tiie  prcfent  ftate.  lilefled  change  indeed !  Rejoice,  ye 
children  of  God,  in  the  profpeft  of  it. 

But  hov,'  fnall  I  glance  a  thought  upon  the  dreadful 
cafe  of  the  wicked  in  that  tremendous  day!  While 
their  bodies  burft  from  their  graves,  the  miferable 
fpedaclcs  of  horror  and  deformity,  fee  the  millions  of 
gloomy  ghofts  that  once  animated  them,  rife  like  pillars 
of  fmokc  from  the  bottomlefs  pit!  and  with  what  re- 
iudlance  and  anguifh  do  they  re-enter  their  old  habita- 
tions !  O  what  a  dreadful  meeting  !  what  fhocking 
falutations!  <'  And  muft  I  be  chained  to  thee  again 
(may  the  guilty  foul  fay)  O  thou  accurfed,  polluted 
body,  thou  fyftem  of  deformity  and  terror  !  In  thee  I 
once  finned,  by  thee  I  was  once  enfnared,  debafed,  and 
ruined:  to  gratify  thy  vile  lufts  and  appetites  I  neg- 
leded  my  own  immortal  interefts,  degraded  my  native 
dignity,  and  made  myfelf  miferable  for  ever.  And 
hafl  thou  now  met  me  to  torm.ent  me  for  ever  ?  O  that 
thou  hadft  ftill  flept  in  the  duft,  and  never  been  repair- 
ed again  !     Let  me  rather  be  condemned  to  animate 

a  toad 


Serm.  ip.         ^ he  General  Refurrc£ii on.  467 

a  toad  or  ferpent  than  that  odious  body  once  defiled 
with  fin,  and  the  inftrument  of  my  guilty  pleafures, 
now  made  ftrong  and  immortal  to  torment  me  with 
ftrong  and  immortal  piiins.  Once  indeed  I  received 
fenfations  of  pleafure  from  thee,  but  now  thou  art 
transformed  into  an  engine  of  torture.  I'lo  more  fhall 
I  through  thine  eyes  behold  the  cheerful  light  of  the 
day  and  the  beautiful  profpecfts  of  nature,  but  the  thick 
glooms  of  hell,  grim  and  ghaftly  ghofts,  heaven  at  an 
impaflable  distance,  and  all  the  horrid  fights  of  woe 
in  the  infernal  regions.  No  more  fiiall  thine  ears  charm 
me  with  the  harmony  of  founds,  but  terrify  and  dif- 
trefs  me  with  the  echo  of  eternal  groans,  and  the 
thunder  of  almighty  vengeance  I  No  more  fhall  the 
gratification  of  thine  appetites  afford  me  pleafure,  but 
thine  appetites,  for  ever  hungry,  for  ever  unfatisfied, 
fliall  eternally  torment  m.e  v/ith  their  eager  importunate 
cravings.  No  more  fnall  thy  tongue  be  employed  in 
mirth,  and  jefi:,  and  fong,  but  complain  and  groan, 
and  blafpheme,  and  roar  for  ever.  Thy  feet,  that  once 
walked  in  the  nowery  enchanted  paths  of  fin,  mufi: 
now  walk  on  the  difmal  burning  foil  of  hell.  O  my 
wretched  companion  !  I  parted  with  thee  with  pain 
and  reluctance  in  the  ftruggles  of  death,  but  now  I 
meet  thee  with  greater  terror  and  as;ony.  Return  to 
thy  bed  in  the  dull: ;  there  fieep  and  rot,  and  let  mc 
never  fee  thy  fhocking  vifage  more."  In  vain  the  pe- 
tition I  the  reludlant  foul  rauft  enter  its  prifon,  from 
whence  it  fiiall  never  more  be  difmified.  And  if  we 
might  indulge  imagination  fo  far,  we  might  fuppofe 
the  body  begins  to  recriminate  in  fuch  language  as 
this  :  "  Come,  guilty  foul,  enter  thy  old  manfion;  if 
it  be  horrible  and  fiiocking,  it  is  owing  to  thyfelf. 
Was  not  the  animal  frame,  the  brutal  nature,  fubjedled 
to  thy  government,  v^ho  art  a  rational  principle  ^.  In- 
ftead  of  being  debafed  by  me,  it  became  thee  to  have 
not  only  retained  the  dignity  of  thy  nature,  but  to  have 
exalted  mine,  by  noble  em.plovments  and  gratifications 
worthy  an  earthly  body  united  to  an  immortal  fpirit. 

Thou 


4^5  The  Generd  B.ef:irre5l'w;i.         Serm.  19. 

Thou  mightefl:  have  reflrained  my  members  from  be- 
ing the  iiiftruments  of  fin,  and  made  them  the  inftru- 
ments  of  righteoufnefs.  My  knees  would  have  bow- 
ed at  the  thror.e  of  grace,  but  thou  didfc  not  affec't 
that  pol'lure.  Mine  eyes  would  have  read,  and  mine 
ears  heard  the  word  of  life  •,  but  thou  wouldit  not  fet 
them  to  that  employ,  or  vvouldit  not  attend  to  it.  And 
now  it  is  but  juft  the  body  thou  didft  proftitute  to  fm 
fnould  be  the  inftrumsntof  thy  punifhment.  Indeed, 
fain  would  I  reiapfe  into  (enfclefs  earth  as  I  was,  and 
continue  in  that  inf?nfibility  forever: — but  didft  thou 
not  hear  the  all-roufing  trumpet  juft  new  ?  did  it  not 
even  fhake  the  foundations  of  thy  infernal  prifon  ?  It 
was  that  call  that  awakened  me,  and  fummoned  me  to 
meet  thee,  and  I  could  not  reiift  it.  Therefore  com.e, 
miferable  foul,  take  pofTeiTion  of  this  frame,  and  let 
us  prepare  for  everlaftingj  burning.  O  that  it  were 
now  poiuble  to  die!  O  that  we  could  be  again  fepa- 
rated,  and  never  be  united  more !  Vain  wii"h  ;  the 
weight  of  mountains,  the  pangs  of  hell,  the  flames 
oi  unquenchable  fire,  can  never  diiTolve  thefe  chains 
wiiich  now  bind  us  together  !"* 

O  I  Sirs,  Wiiat  a  (liocking  interview  is  this  !  O  the 
glorious,  dreadful  morning  of  the  refurreftion  !  What 
icenes  of  unknown  joy  and  terror  will  then  open  ? 
Alethinks  we  muft  always  h^ive  it  in  profped  -,  it  muft 

even 

*  The  Rev.  Mr.  John  RevnolJs,  in  his  poem  entitled  DeatFs 
Vif.on,  introduces  the  foul  fpcaking  againft  the  body,  and  afterwards 
checking  its  cenfiires,  and  turning  them  upon  itfeU,  in  a  vein  of 
thought  not  unlike  that  of  Mr.  Davies. 

;Go,  tempter,  go,  as  thou  haft  been     ■ 
A  quick  extinguifher  of  heav'nly  fires! 
A  fource  of  black  enormity  and  fin, 
Thou  cramp  cf  facred  motions  and  defires  ! 
How  brave  and  blefs'd  am  I, 
Unfcttcr'd  from  thy  company, 
Tf^.ou  enemy  of  my  joys  and  me  ? 
But  pardon  that  1  thus 
Unconr.^ioufly  accufe ! 
Ho^v  much  more  cruel  have  I  been  to  thee  \ 
"  '  l\v::3  cruel  loblig'd  thee  to  obey 
"  The  wilful  didatci  of  my  guilty  fvviy." 


Serm.  ip.         The  General  RefurreLfion.  A.6g 

even  now  engage  our  thoughts,  and  fill  us  with  trem- 
bling folicitude,  and  make  it  the  great  objed:  of  our 
labour  and  purluit  to  ihare  in  the  refuiredion  of  the 
juft. 

But  for  what  ends  do  thefe  fleeping  multitudes  rife? 
For  what  purpofes  do  they  come  forth  ?  My  text  will 
tell  you, 

IV.  They  Hiall  come  forth,  fome  to  the  refuire^ion 
of  Jife^  end  feme  to  the  refurre^fion  of  dam/:ation.  They 
are  fummoned  from  their  graves  to  ftand  at  the  bar, 
and  brought  out  of  prifon  by  angelic  guards  to  pafs 
their  laft  trial.  And  as  in  this  impartial  trial  they  will 
be  found  to  be  perfons  of  very  different  charafters,  the 
righteous  Judge  of  the  earth  will  accordingly  pro- 
nounce their  different  doom. 

See  a  glorious  7nuhitude^  which  none  can  number, 
openly  acquitted,  pronounced  blefied,  and  welcomed 
into  the  kingdom  prepared  for  them  from  the  foundation 
of  the  ivorld,  Nov.'  they  enter  upon  a  ftate  v.-hich  de- 
ferves  the  name  of  life.  They  are  all  vital,  all  adive, 
all  glorious,  all  happy.  Thzy  f}::ne  brighter  than  the 
Jiars  in  the  firmament ;  like  the  fun  for  ez-er  and  ez:er. 
All  their  faculties  overflow  with  happinefs.  They 
m.ingle  with  the  g;lorious  company  cf  angels  •,  they 
behold  that  Saviour  v;hom  unfeen  they  \o\e6.  ;  they 
dwell  in  eternal  intimacy  with  the  Father  of  their  fpi- 
rits  •,  they  are  employed  with  ever-new  a-.d  g;rovving 
delight  in  rhe  exalted  ferv  ices  of  the  heavenly  janftuarv. 
They  fhail  never  more  fear  nor  feel  the  leail:  touch  of 
forrow,  pain,  or  any  kind  of  mifery,  but  fhall  be  as 
happy  as  their  natures  can  admit  through  an  immortal 
duration.  What  a  glorious  new  creation  is  here  !  what 
illuilrious  creatures  formed  of  the  duit !  And  fhall 
any  of  us  join  in  this  happy  company  ?  O  !  fhall  any 
of  us,  feeble,  dying,  finful  creatures,  fhine  in  their 
glory  and  happinefs  ?  This  is  a  m^oft  interefting  en- 
quiry, and  I  would  have  you  think  of  it  with  trem- 
bling anxiety;  and  I  fnall  prefcntly  anfv/er  it  in  its 
place. 

The 


470  Tbe  General  Refurreclhn.         Serm,  19". 

The  profpeft  would  be  delightful,  if  our  charity 
could  hope  that  this  will  be  the  happy  end  of  all  the 
fons  of  men.  But,  alas  !  multitudes,  and  we  have 
reafon  to  fear  the  far  greater  number  fhall  come  forth, 
not  to  the  refurreftion  of  life,  but  to  the  refurreftioii 
of  damnation.  Damnation!  what  terror  is  in  the 
found.  If  audacious  fmners  in  our  world  make  light 
of  it,  and  pray  for  it  on  every  trifling  occafion,  their 
infernal  brethren  that  feel  its  tremendous  import  are 
not  fo  hardy,  but  tremble  and  groan,  and  can  trifle 
with  it  no  more. 

Let  us  realize  the  miferable  doom  of  this  clafs 
of  mankind.  See  them  burfting  into  life  from  their 
fubterranean  dungeons,  hideous  fhapes  of  deformity 
and  terror,  exprefiiveof  the  vindiftivedefign  for  v^hich 
thtir  bodies  are  repaired,  and  of  the  boiflierous  and 
malignant  pafllons  that  ravage  their  fouls.  Horror 
tJirobs  through  every  vein,  and  glares  wild  and  furi- 
ous I'n  their  eyes.  Every  joint  trembles,  and  every 
countenance  looks  down-caft  and  gloomy.  Now  they 
fee  that  tremendous  day  of  which  they  v/ere  warned 
in  vain,  and  fnudder  at  thofe  terrors  of  which  they 
once  made  light.  They  immediately  know  the  grand 
bufinefs  of  the  day,  and  the  dreadful  purpofe  for  which 
they  are  roufed  from  their  flumbers  in  the  grave ;  to 
be  tried,  to  be  convided,  to  be  condemned,  and  to 
be  dran-o-ed  away  to  execution.  Confcience  has  been 
anticipating  the  trial  in  a  feparate  fl:ate-,  and  no  iooner 
is  the  foul  united  to  the  body  than  immediately  con- 
fcience afcends  its  throne  in  the  breafl,  and  begins  to 
accufe,  to  convid:,  to  pafs  fentence,  to  upbraid,  and 
to  torment.  The  fmner  is  condemned,  condemned  at 
his  own  tribunal,  before  he  arrives  at  the  bar  of  his 
Judge.  The  firft  a^t  ot  confcioufnefs  in  his  own  fl:ate 
of  exiflence  is  a  convidion  that  he  is  condemned,  an 
irrevocably  condemned  creature.  He  enters  the  court, 
knowing  beforehand  how  it  will  go  v/ith  him.  V/hcn 
he  finds'himfelf  ordered  to  the  left  hand  of  his  Judge, 
when  he  hears  the  dreadful  fentence  thundered  out 

againft 


Serm.  19.         ^hs  General  Refurrc5fion.  471 

againfl;  him,  Depart  from  me  accurfed^  it  was  but  what 
he  expe(5ted.  Now  he  can  flatter  hhrifeif  with  vain 
hopes,  and  fhut  his  eyes  againfl;  the  light  of  convic- 
tion, but  then  he  will  not  be  able  to  hope  better  \  then 
he  muft  know  the  worft  of  his  cafe.  The  formality 
of  the  judicial  trial  is  neceHary  for  the  convi(5lion  of 
the  world,  but  not  for  his;  his  own  confcience  lias 
already  determined  his  condition.  However,  to  con- 
vince others  of  the  juftice  of  his  doom,  he  is  dragged 
and  guarded  from  his  grave  to  the  judgment-feat  by 
fierce  unrelenting  devils,  now  his  tempters,  but  then 
his  tormentors.  With  what  horror  does  he  view  the 
burning  throne  and  the  frowning  face  of  his  Judge, 
that  Jefus  whom  he  once  difregarded,  in  fpite  of  all  his 
dying  love  and  the  falvation  he  ofrered  !  How  does  he 
wiili  for  a  covering  of  recks  and  mountains  to  conceal 
him  from  his  angry  eye !  but  all  in  vain.  Appear  he 
mufl:.  He  is  ordered  to  the  left  among  the  trembling 
criminals;  and  now  the  trial  comes  on.  All  his  evil 
deeds,  and  all  his  omiffions  of  duty,  are  nov/  produced 
againfl:  him.  All  the  mercies  he  abufed,  all  the  chaf- 
tifements  he  defpifed,  all  the  means  of  grace  he  neg- 
le6t;ed  or  mifimproved,  every  finful,  and  even  every  idle 
v/ord,  nay,  his  mofl:  fecret  thoughts  and  difpofitions 
are  all  expofed,  and  brought  into  judgment  againft 
him.  And  when  the  Judge  puts  it  to  him,  "  Is  it 
not  fo  finner  ?  Are  not  thefe  charges  true  ?"  confcience 
obliges  him  to  confefs  and  cry  out.  Guilty  I  guilty ! 
And  now  the  trembling  criminal  being  plainly  con- 
vifted,  and  left  v.'ithout  all  plea  and  ail  excufc,  the 
fupreme  Judae,  in  fl:ern  majefiiy  and  inexorable  jufliice, 
thunders  out  the  dreadful  fentence,  Depart  from  me  ye 
curfed^  into  everlafinig  fire^  prepared  for  the  devil  and 
his  angels.  Matt.  xxv.  41.  •  O  tremendous  doom! 
every  word  is  big  with  terror,  and  llioots  a  thunder- 
bolt through  the  heart.  '*  Depart:  away  from  my 
prefence ;  I  cannot  bear  fo  loathfome  a  fight.  I  once 
invited  thee  to  come  to  me,  that  thou  mightefl:  have 
jife,  but  thou  wouldfl:  not  regard  the  invitation;  and 

now 


47  2  ^^-^^  General  R ejurreElion.  Ser m .  19. 

now  thou  flialt  never  hear  that  inviting  voice  more. 
Depart  from  me;  from  me,  the  only  Fountain  of  hap- 
pinefs,  the  only  proper  Good  for  an  immortal  mind.'* 
'  But,  Lord,'  (we  may  fuppofe  the  criminal  to  fay) 
'  if  I  muft  depart;  blefs  me  before  I  go.'  "  No,"  fays 
the  angry  Judge,  "  depart  accurfed;  depart  v^'ith  my 
eternal  and  heavy  curfe  upon  thee;  the  curfe  of  that 
power  that  made  thee;  a  curfe  dreadfully  efficacious, 
that  blafts  whatever  it  falls  upon  like  flafhes  of  con- 
fuming,  irrefiftible  lightning."  *  But  if  I  muft  go 
away  under  thy  curfe,  (the  criminal  may  be  fuppofed 
lo  fay)  let  that  be  all  my  punifnment ;  let  me  depart 
to  fome  agreeable,  or  at  leafi;  tolerable  recefs,  where  I 
may  meet  with  fomething  to  mitigate  the  curfe.' 
"  No,  depart  into  fire;  there  burn  in  all  the  excruci- 
ating tortures  of  that  outrageous  element."  '  But, 
Lord,  if  I  muft  make  my  bed  in  lire,  O  let  it  be  a 
tranfient  blaze,  that  will  foon  burn  itfelf  out,  and  put 
an  end  to  my  torment.'  "  No,  depart  into  everlaft- 
ing  fire ;  there  burn  Vv^ithout  confuming,  and  be  tor- 
mented without  end."  '  But,  Lord,  grant  me  (cries 
the  poor  wretch)  at  leafi  the  mitigation  of  friendly, 
entertaining,  and  fympathizing  company  ;  or,  if' this 
cannot  be  granted,  grant  me  this  fmall,  this  almoft 
no  requeft,  to  be  doomed  to  fome  folitary  corner  in 
Hell,  v.'here  I  fliail  be  punifhed  only  by  my  own  con- 
fcience  "awA  thine  immediate  hand  ;  but  O  deliver  me 
from  thefe  malicious,  tormenting  devils ;  baniili  me 
into  fome  apartment  in  the  infernal  pit  far  from  their 
fociety.'  "  No,  depart  into  everlafiing  fire  prepared 
for  the  devil  and  his  angels  :  thou  m.uft  make  one  of 
their  wretched  crev/  for  ever  :  thou  didtt  join  with 
them  in  finning,  and  now  muft  iliare  in  their  punifh- 
ment :  thou  didfl  fjbmit  to  them  as  thy  tempters,  and 
now  thou  mufr  fubmit  to  them  as  thy  tormentors." 

Sentence  being  pronounced,  it  is  immediately  exe- 
cuted.    'Thefe  Jhail  ^o  away  into  everlafiing  punijhmenl. 
Matt.  XXV.  46,      Devils  drag  them  away  to   the  pit, 
and  pufh  them  dov/n  headlong.     There  they  are  con- 
fined 


Serm.  ip.         The  General  Re furreElion.  473 

fined  in  chains  of  darknefs,  and  in  a  lake  burning  with 
fire  and  brimftone,  forever,  for  ever  !  In  that  dread- 
ful word  lies  the  emphafis  of  torment :  it  is  an  hell  in 
hell.  If  they  might  be  but  releafed  from  pain,  though 
it  were  by  annihilation,  after  they  have  wept  av/ay  tea 
thoufand  millions  of  ages  in  extremity  of  pain,  it 
would  be  fome  mitigation,  fome  encouragement ;  but, 
alas  !  \\^en  as  many  millions  of  ages  are  pafled  as  the 
ftars  of  heaven,  or  the  fand  on  the  fea-fhore,  or  the 
atoms  of  duft  in  this  huge  globe  of  earth,  their 
punifhrnent  is  as  far  from  an  end  as  when  the  fentence 
was  pronounced  upon  them.  For  ever  !  there  is  no 
exhaufting  of  that  word  ;  and  when  it  is  affixed  to  the 
higheft  degree  of  mifery,  the  terror  of  the  found  is 
utterly  infupportable.  See,  firs,  what  depends  upon 
time,  that  fpan  of  time  we  enjoy  in  this  fleeting  life. 
Eternity  !  awful,  all-important  eternity  depends  upon 
it. 

All  this  while  confcience  tears  the  finner's  heart  with 
the  mofl:  tormenting  refledions.  "  O  what  a  fair  op- 
portunity I  once  had  for  falvation,  had  I  improved  it! 
I  was  warned  of  the  confequences  of  a  life  of  fin  and 
careleffnefs :  I  was  told  of  the  necefiity  of  faith,  re- 
pentance, and  univerfal  holinefs  of  heart  and  life;  I 
enjoyed  a  fufficient  fpace  for  repentance,  and  all  the 
neceflary  means  of  falvation,  but,  fool  that  I  was,  I 
negledled  all,  I  abufed  all ;  I  refufed  to  part  with  my 
fins;  I  refufed  to  engage  ferioufly  in  religion,  and  to 
feek  God  in  earned: ;  and  now  1  am  loft  forever  with- 
out hope.  O  !  for  one  of  thofe  months,  one  of  thofe 
weeks,  or  even  fo  much  as  one  of  thofe  days  or  hours 
I  once  trifled  away  !  with  what  earneftnefs,  with  what 
folicitude  would  I  improve  it !  But  all  my  opportu- 
nities are  paft,  beyond  recovery,  and  not  a  moment 
Jfhall  be  given  me  for  this  purpofe  any  more.  O  what 
a  fool  was  I  to  fell  my  foul  for  fuch  trifles !  to  fet  fo 
light  by  heaven,  and  fall  into  hell  through  mere  neg- 
led:  and  careleflhefs  !     Ye  impenitent,  unthinking  fin- 

P  p  p  ners, 


A'/^  The  General  RefurreSiGn.         b'erm.  19. 

cauie  we  delight  to  do  good ;  other  wife  it  is  all  hy- 
pocrify,  conftraint,  or  felfiflinefs,  and  cannot  be  ac- 
ceptable to  God.  Here  again,  my  brethren,  look 
into  your  hearts  and  examine  what  is  the  principle  of 
your  obedience,  and  whether  ever  you  have  been  made 
new  creatures. 

^.  I  muft  add,  efpecially  as  we  live  under  the  gof- 
pel,  that  your  dependence  for  life  muft  not  be  upon 
the  good  you  do,  but  entirely  upon  the  righteoufnefs 
of  Jefus  Chrift.  After  you  have  done  all,  you  muft 
acknowledge  you  are  but  unprofitable  fervants,  and 
renounce  all  your  v/orks  in  point  of  merit,  v/hile  you 
abound  in  them'  in  point  of  pra61ice.  Phil.  iii.  7,  8. 
This  is  an  eflential  chara(?leriftic  of  evangelical  obedi- 
ence, and  without  it  you  cannot  expeft  to  have  a  rc- 
furreclion  to  eternal  life  and  bleflednefs. 

I  might  enlarge  upon  this  head,  but  time  will  not 
jpermit ;  and  1  hope  thefe  three  charaders  may  fufiice 
to  fhevv  you  what  is  implied  in  doing  good.  Let  us 
now  proceed  to  the  oppofite  character. 

2.  What  is  it  to  do  evil?  This  implies  fuch  tilings 
as  thefe  :  The  habitual  negled:  of  v^ell-doing,  or  the. 
performance  of  duties  in  a  languid,  formal  manner, 
or  without  a  right  principle,  and  the  wilful  indulgence 
of  any  one  fin;  the  fccret  love  of  ftu,  though  not  fuf- 
fered  to  break  forth  into  the  outward  pra^lice.  Here 
it  is  evident  at  firft  fight  that  profane  finners,  drunk- 
ai-ds,  fwearers,  defrauders,  avowed  neglefrors  of  re- 
ligion, &c.  have  this  difmal  brand  upon  them,  that 
they  are  fuch  as  do  evil.  Nay,  all  fuch  who  are  in 
their  natural  ftate,  without  regeneration,  whatever 
their  outfide  be,  mufi:  be  ranked  in  this  clafs  :  for 
that  ivhicb  is  born  of  the  fie fh  is  flt/Jj,  John  iii.  6.  and 
they  that  are  in  the  flefio  cannot  'pleafe  God^  nor  be  rightly 
fubjeSl  to  his  lazv.  Rom.  viii.  7,  8. 

And  now  who  is  for  life,  and  who  for  damnation 
ai^ong  yon  ?     Thefe  characters  are  intended  to  make 
■  th.^  diftinctioti  among  you,  and  I  pray  you  npply  them 
for  that  purpcfco 

As 


Serm.  ip.         I'hs  General  RefurreLiion.  ^yy 

As  for  fuch  of  you  who  amidft  all  your  lamented 
infirmities  are  endeavouring  honeftly  to  do  good,  and 
grieved  at  heart  that  you  can  do  no  more,  you  alfo 
niuft  dici  you  muft  die,  and  feed  the  worms  in  the 
duft.  But  you  (hall  rife  glorioufly  improved,  rife  to 
an  immortal  life,  and  in  all  the  terrors  and  confterna- 
tion  of  that  lalt  day,  you  will  be  fecure,  ferene,  and 
undifturbed.  The  almighty  Judge  will  be  your  friend, 
and  that  is  enough.  Let  this  thought  difarm  the 
king  of  terrors,  and  give  you  courage  to  look  down 
into  tlie  grave,  and  forward  to  the  great  riling  day. 
O  what  an  happy  immortality  opens  its  glorious  prof- 
peds  beyond  the  ken  of  fight  before  you  !  and  after 
a  few  ftruggies  more  in  this  ftate  of  warfare,  and  rett- 
ing av/hile  in  the  bed  of  death,  at  the  regions  of  eter- 
nal blefiednefs  you  will  arrive,  and  take  up  your  refi- 
dence  there  for  ever. 

But  are  there  not  fome  here  who  are  confcious  that 
thefe  favourable  charafters  do  not  belong  to  them? 
that  know  that  well-doing  is  not  the  bufinefs  of  their 
life,  but  that  they  are  workers  of  iniquity }  I  tell  you 
plainly,  and  with  all  the  authority  the  word  of  God 
can  give,  that  if  you  continue  fuch,  you  fhall  rife  to 
damnation.  That  will  undoubtedly  be  your  doom, 
uniefs  you  are  greatly  changed  and  reform.ed  in  heart 
and  life.  And  will  this  be  no  excitement  to  vigorous 
endeavours?  Are  you  proof  againft  the  energy  of 
fuch  a  confideraticn  ?  Ye  carelefs  finners,  awake  out 
of  your  fecurity,  and  prepare  for  death  and  judgment  I 
this  fleeting  life  is  all  the  time  you  have  for  prepara- 
tion, and  can  you  trifle  it  av/ay  ?  Your  all,  your  eter- 
nal all  is  fet  upon  the  fingle  caft  of  life,  and  you  muft 
ftand  the  hazard  of  the  dye.  You  can  make  but  one 
experiment,  and  if  that  fail,  through  your  floth  or 
mifmanagement,  you  are  irrecoverably  undone  for  ever. 
Therefore,  by  the  dread  authority  of  the  great  God, 
by  the  terrors  of  death,  and  the  great  rifing  day,  by 
the  joys  of  heaven,  and  the  torments  of  hell,  and  by 

the 


1  -<? 


S  The  Gemral  Refurrenbn.         Serm.  19. 

the  value  of  your  immortal  fouls,  1  intreat,  I  charge, 
I  adjure  you  to  awake  out  of  your  fecurity,  and  im- 
prove the  precious  moments  of  life.  The  world  is 
dyino-  all  around  you.  And  can  you  reft  eafy  in  fuch 
a  world  while  unprepared  for  eternity  ^  Awake  to 
righteoufnefs  now,  at  the  gentle  call  of  the  gofpel, 
before  the  laft  trumpet  give  you  an  alarm  of  another 
kind. 


END  QF  THE  EIRS'T  VOLUME. 


^ui-.ii:u. 


:     ^.•;,-^| 

• 

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